


With You

by Zoete9



Series: The Road Forward [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Alvida is a Fucking Nightmare, Angst and Humor, Bullying, Child Abuse, Complicated Relationships, Cop Smoker, Cryptid Hunting?, Designated Driver Usopp, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Needs A Hug, Excessive Cursing, F/F, F/M, Found Family, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Merry the Magic Schmeevan, Monkey D. Luffy Has ADHD, Multi, Nami Has a Headache, One Great Big Trauma-rama, Orphans VS. Shitty Foster Care... GO!, Roronoa Zoro Needs a Hug, The Power of Love and Friendship Goddammit, This is Long and Full of Messy Feelings, Trans Chopper, Victim Blaming, Vinsmoke Sanji Being an Asshole, Walking Disaster Portgas D. Ace, and maybe Autism, but then he's not, he's chaos incarnate why did I write him like this, hijinks and shenanigans, you can pry Merry from my cold dead fingers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:55:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 61,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25390474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoete9/pseuds/Zoete9
Summary: Zoro's been letting shit happen to him his whole life. Alvida's favorite doormat that gives her the occasional splinter. An impromptu road trip with a group of misfits he met yesterday can't be any worse, right? He just has to hide that he's an anxiety-riddled mass of nightmares in place of a normal teenager. His issues may have six sets of their own separate issues, but he can definitely Human and Befriend. This will be fucking easy. If only Luffy and company weren't such wildcards."I think I've desperately misunderstood what road trips are? Or is this normal?""If you think there's anything normal about us, you've been suffering under some severe misconceptions."
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy/Roronoa Zoro, Portgas D. Ace/Smoker
Series: The Road Forward [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838863
Comments: 98
Kudos: 128





	1. Turkey Legs Do Not Friendships Make?

**Author's Note:**

> So, like, listen. This has been sitting in my files for actual years and its angsty jaws remain poised to rip my throat out at any given moment. It is a monster in every sense of the word. By which I mean even I'm not exactly sure where this is going beyond the 170k I currently have written. This first chapter is almost a prologue and therefore very short. 
> 
> For now, just enjoy this intro to Zoro as I have crafted him through a traumatic past and miserable present. The trigger warning lists will be long because what haven't I shoe-horned in here? Let me know if I've missed something I should tag. Roll with everyone's excessive cursing and possible OOCness, though I don't think the latter is too excessive. That's for you to decide.
> 
> All of the Straw Hats are around 17, finishing their third year of HS (I am American, but honestly school details don't weigh in too heavily here). The universe here is also vague as shit. Are we in the OP canon? A cross between that and our world? Maybe. Most likely. I marked it AU regardless. There might be other fics exploring character backgrounds in-depth because I have no self-control. 
> 
> Have fun, my dudes, we meet the rest of the crew next chapter!
> 
> (Also, thank the fuck out of CuteCat213 for bouncing ideas back and forth with me, loving the characters, and enduring my turtle-paced writing habits.)

He only realizes he should stop when he notices the smear of blood on his knuckles.

His chest heaves as he stares at the shreds of skin that remain, but he does nothing more than blink at the re-opened wound.

It's nothing fucking new.

His arm shoots outward, fist landing with a clap against Koshiro's padded mitt. Satisfaction curls in his stomach despite the pain. A smirk pulls at his mouth as he winds the other arm back, more strength in it than the last, but—

He swings at the air, tripping forward with the momentum. He almost falls ass over teakettle as he flails to regain balance.

"What the fuck, sensei?" he spits, rounding on the man with a glare.

"Language."

Zoro rolls his eyes. "Seriously? We're going to do this again? You know I'm not—"

"I know." Koshiro sighs, though the quirk to his lips says he's amused. "But what kind of authority figure would I be if I didn't at least try?"

Zoro swallows down a rush of bitterness, then stomps it into dust for good measure. He doesn't even let the thoughts that come with it form a skeleton. "The cool kind, maybe?"

Koshiro's smile turns wry. "I think I'm already cool enough for letting you stay here overnight after work, then wake me up _far_ too early to spar..." He pauses, head tilting. " _And then_ be very late for school."

Zoro's gaze snaps to the clock, dread sinking in when he registers the time. "Shit," he hisses, running for his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is— fuckin' great."

" _Language,"_ Koshiro reprimands, more firm than before. "Tomorrow's the last day. You can afford to skip, so I didn't think it would be a big deal."

"Yeah, uh, hell no... I gotta— I _have_ to go. We've been at this for hours anyway." He stumbles backward, babbling to his teacher over his shoulder as he heads for the door. "I have... things to do. Kind of. Because we have an assembly!"

Because he already didn't go home last night, and if he stays now, he'll never work up the nerve to go back.

Koshiro blinks in the face of his student's panic. "You don't _care_ about assembly, Zoro, why—"

"Okay, fine, I admit you're the _coolest_ goddamn sensei _ever_ ," Zoro dismisses. He yanks the sliding door open and dashes through. "Bye!"

* * *

He makes it for the tail end of fourth period, and by then he goes straight to the cafeteria instead of class. Lunch is starting anyway.

The lunch ladies send him bewildered looks as he bursts through the doors, which, kind of yikes. He's sweating a river from sprinting the entire way, and the bloodied knuckles aren't doing him any favors. One of the ladies gives them the eye. He can't remember her name for the life of him.

He raises a fist, shrugging. "Got in a fight with a wall, y'know?"

She wrinkles her nose at him, nails tapping the counter with a metallic scritch. "Mm-hm," she hums. "Likely story."

Translation: _bullshit._ He suppresses a snicker, knowing she thinks he'd been fighting someone in the hallway. His stomach revs like a chainsaw the moment his eyes land on the spread of food.

He gives another helpless shrug toward the aghast lunch ladies.

They get over it with one last critical appraisal and shove a tray of food toward him. Zoro gets the feeling they hope it'll cure whatever bug is making him act like a starving dog.

"You're a weird kid, Roronoa."

"Thanks." Zoro huffs a laugh and snags the seat closest to the door. He can't tell them the bug is his life.

He only has a few minutes to scarf down half the tray — what the fuck is he even eating? — before the chattering roar of his fellow students catches up to him. He watches them line up for a minute, as others rush to save a table for their friend groups. Zoro weighs the pros and cons of staying.

In his peripheral, he sees a red blur claim a seat at the far end of his own table, tray dropping with a loud _clunk_. It's reminiscent of the way Zoro's stomach plummets to his toes at the thought of socializing.

Yeah, well, fuck _that._

He surges upward, cursing the fact that the trash can is on the opposite end of the table. He's not enough of an inconsiderate shithead to abandon his half-eaten tray for the staff to pick up, especially since the lunch ladies didn't even charge him. He tries extra hard to ignore the person sitting right next to the trash can, only registers that loud shade of red.

An offended gasp stops him before he can throw away even a single fry.

He ignores it, tipping the tray forward with a bit of hesitation. A hand slams onto the table, and Zoro's entire chest seizes up before exploding in a jack-rabbit pulse. He flinches so bad he almost flings the whole tray to the ground.

" _What_ do you think you're doing?"

Zoro blinks at the challenge in the voice, wrinkling his nose. "Throwing... my lunch away?"

"Exactly! That's stupid. You can't. It's blasphemy! Am I using that right? Whatever. I mean—" Ridiculous noises of protest fill the rest of his sentence. "You have _meat_."

Remaining frozen, he's unable to think of a snappy comeback. He stares at the turkey leg the other seems to be hosting a riot over and kind of wants to crawl out of his skin. An indignant huff makes him finally turn to look at the owner of the voice.

Brown eyes, so deep and dark they're black, stare holes into him. He might share a class or two with him, but Zoro couldn't name which ones to save his life. His heart spasms at the pout accenting the other boy's displeasure with him.

"Fucking _what?"_ he asks. He's just— _so_ confused.

Normally it takes a lot more to offend people. Normally, he'd be up in arms and snarling right back. But he didn't even _do_ anything this time. He can't tell if _that's_ what's throwing him off his game or if it's how absurd the argument is. How absurd this _person_ is.

The boy makes grabby hands at his tray. "I'll take it if you don't want it, but _geez_ , don't just throw it away!" He gasps and his hands begin digging through his pockets instead. "Wait, I think I have like... thirteen cents in here somewhere if you wanna trade."

"Um..." Zoro drops the tray on the table in front of him, succinct, eager to run the fuck away from this whole situation. "Just take it."

"Oh." The boy stops his erratic movements and fixes him in place with an awed stare, eyes raking him up and down. "That was easy!"

_Easy._

The word is like a slap to the face.

 _Haven't you heard? Everyone else did. Can't believe you're so damn_ easy, _Roronoa._

He can't tell what the kid means by it. If there's a subtext he should be reading loud and clear. Maybe not, because his grin— holy shit, his grin blinds Zoro. It makes him lose his footing and he _does not like that._

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, and speed-walks away from whatever the fuck just happened.

Zoro ignores the shriek of, "Thank you!" that tries to follow him out.

* * *

Alvida is blessedly passed out when he gets home that night.

He isn't worried. She always wakes up no matter how much she drinks.

He relishes the silence her absence brings and lets himself relax in the place he's supposed to call home. Stares at the hole in his bedroom wall from two days ago, excess drywall dusting matted carpet. He flexes his hand, testing how raw it is after also overdoing it at the dojo, and wonders if she knows about it yet.

He can already feel the smack to the head, hear her screaming _look what you did!_ God, what a violent _asshole_ he is, and he's definitely going to _pay_ for it. In money and in blood.

Zoro sits on his bed with a sigh. His stomach curls in anticipation as he throws himself back to blink at the ceiling.

He fucked up again, obviously, but—

Better the walls than her face, right?


	2. Enter: The Schmeevan from Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoro joins a gang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one tiny thing: I won't be updating more than once in a week like I am right now. However, I've already posted three chapters on FFn and didn't want to wait longer to put at least this one up. Chapter three will likely be coming in a few days. Also, this is chaotic as hell with so many characters, but I hope it's enjoyable chaos because this is only a small taste.

His day consists of bullshitting his way through final exams, then zoning out in class while everyone signs each other's yearbooks.

Zoro is empty-handed, but it's not like anyone would sign it even if he wasn't.

Right.

What a fucking lie that turns out to be, because twenty minutes before the last bell—

"Hey, Roronoa, let me at it." Deacon smirks, gesturing with a marker to his equally cocky friends. "Or all of us. Y'know, if you're... into that."

The group of snickering boys receives the most acidic glare he can muster. "Fuck off, Dee. I don't even have a book."

Like he doesn't already know what kind of nasty, mocking shit they'd pen down if given the chance.

Deacon proves him right with a cheshire smile, cordial as a kick in the shin. "Alright, but feel free to take the offer another way. You're no Sandra Dee, but who says the summer lovin' still can't—"

He yelps as his toes crunch under the heel of Zoro's boot. "You sure you've got the balls to finish that?"

Deacon snorts. "Come on. Why're you giving _me_ such a hard time about this? I've heard—"

Panic and anger swirl together, and Zoro surges to his feet. "You obviously _didn't_ hear, because I know _I—"_ he steps closer, foot grinding down harder until the other boy hisses and shoves at him "—told you to fuck off."

"Okay, y'know what—" Deacon snaps, stumbling back when the push isn't enough to dislodge Zoro. He glances toward the teacher, wary.

Mrs. Neruda remains absorbed in her book, earbuds in and head down, face curtained by the bob of her hair as she thumbs another page. Satisfied, Deacon grins and makes to lunge forward.

Zoro stiffens, limbs locking up, and he knows he isn't going to block. Knows the classroom may as well be filled with sharks for all the silently ravenous stares aimed their way. They scent fresh blood practically every time Zoro opens his mouth. He's going to stand here and let this kid clock him in the jaw despite talking a big game, the crowd will go wild, and he'll—

One of Deacon's friends stops him, grabs him 'round the shoulders. "Hey! Not worth summer school. You're on thin ice already."

Deacon pauses, huffing in frustration. "But—"

"Really, man? For Roronoa?"

"It's not even that fun to mess with him," says Friend B, and everyone else nods along like he's said something profound. "I'm already bored!"

Friend A pats his shoulder. "See, just think about it."

Miracle of miracles, Deacon does, fist gradually dropping. "You're right." He drags his eyes over Zoro with a sneer. "Think I'll pass on sloppy seconds after all."

They're gone in a blink like it never even happened, and—

Zoro refuses to let any part of it sting and sinks back into his seat. The teacher won't think he's justified in punching the smarmy fucker. No adult ever does, because violence is never the answer and Zoro is the bad kid. The irony that Alvida would agree with the latter to _justify_ the former is not lost on him. The fact that she's probably right about that when it comes to him makes it worse.

He scowls at the clock until the last possible second and ignores the tittering girls behind him. It doesn't matter that he hears his name slip in and out of their conversation. Doesn't matter that the entire class is still staring at him, dozens of eyes straining at the periphery in a sad attempt at discretion. Same shit, different day.

It's over soon enough.

The bell rings for the last time of the school year and it is utter chaos.

Students whoop and scramble out the room's single door as though they've just found out the building is collapsing. It's a wonder some of the more adventurous students aren't trying to jump out the windows. Mrs. Neruda yells futile goodbyes, drowned out by excited chatter. Deacon makes sure to flip him off and glare at him one last time on his way out.

Zoro lingers, still slumped in his seat and _not_ wanting to get up, unlike ninety-nine percent of his peers.

Granted, the bell isn't most students' signal to psych themselves up for a three-mile trek home. He doesn't have work tonight, and so no excuses. Sure, Koshiro _might_ not mind him showing up to the dojo. He says he doesn't, but people say a whole lot of things they don't mean. Either way, Zoro still overstayed his welcome this week.

He's dreading the summer and has become clingy as a consequence.

He rises from the desk after even Neruda starts giving him weird looks, gone before she starts talking like she gives a shit. He moves on autopilot, lost in the blank space of his head until his boot sends a rock flying into the road. It crunches under a speeding car's wheel, bass briefly rattling his eardrums as the vehicle zips by. Already outside, then. He'd pay more attention if only to avoid getting hit by a car himself, but it's hard to even care past the fog that has come over his brain.

"Hey, you!" someone yells from up the street. "Wait up!"

He doubts they're yelling after him, but curiosity makes him crane his neck back to check as he slows his walk a bit. His eyes widen. A group of teenagers thunders down the street, straight towards him.

"Oh, fuck me," he mutters, quickening his pace, but doesn't run. He isn't sure _why_ they're hunting him down in the first place. He can't remember if he's done anything someone other than Deacon wants to break his nose for.

But then they're right there, seven bodies gasping for breath; two girls and five boys. Five boys and he recognizes the one with dark eyes and black hair from that bizarre lunch exchange yesterday.

Zoro continues walking.

"Hey! Wait!" cries the one wearing the straw hat, who also happens to be the kid he recognizes. The boy keeps stalking and talking, determined to make Zoro stop as his words come out in a rush, "So, I'm Luffy. Um, you know, you're pretty cool, and we're going on a road trip this weekend. I mean, maybe not all of us since we all barely fit in the van and some of us might be busy but I doubt that because we've been planning this for years and—" He abruptly cuts off with a sharp grunt. "Hey!"

"Too many words, Luffy," says a different voice. "Get to the point."

"Oops. Okay, what I'm trying to say is you should come along. On the road trip."

The statement is choppy from start to finish, but it's so casual Zoro chokes on the air around him. It works as Luffy wanted it to. He stops dead in his tracks on the sidewalk and turns around to face the gang of misfits. He's going to be late getting home. That's his first, frankly shudder-inducing, thought.

Sticking that bullshit in the back of his mind, Zoro flounders for a response. Something that will save him from looking like a pathetic loser or some complete asshole. Not that he doesn't _already_ think he's both of those things as is, or would be entirely opposed to the asshole option, but... _for fuck's_ _sake_. All he'd done was give this kid his unwanted club of meat at lunch, and now he's paying for it with social interactions on his walk home from school? Fantastic.

"…wait, what?" Zoro says in answer. He pats himself on the back for how outstandingly well he's managed to show his intelligence in just two words.

Luffy only stares at Zoro, eyes like vacuous black holes. His straw hat slants to the side before he reaches up to fix it. Overall, he's being useless in clarifying his previous words. The blond beside Luffy sighs. The one with the weird-ass curly eyebrows, named Sanji, if his memory isn't, in fact, absolute shit. It's a sigh so dramatic Zoro can tell he thinks this is all so much more effort than it's worth. He wholeheartedly agrees.

"Obviously, he's telling you to come with us," Curly Brow says, and smoke billows out from the side of his mouth not occupied by a cigarette.

He also mutters something like 'fucking moron' under his breath. Zoro grits his teeth and doesn't snap like he wants to. He's not going to start a fight — not yet. Not outnumbered seven-to-one, anyway.

"Thanks," he says instead, frowning. "I kind of got that much. What I want to know is why the _hell_ he thinks bringing a stranger along is a good idea."

The blond shrugs. "This is the first I'm hearing of it, too."

Zoro looks at Luffy, expectant. "Well?"

Luffy hums, squinting at Zoro like he might need a pair of glasses. "You're interesting and cool… so I wanna be your friend. And that means you should come with us."

He nods to himself and crosses his arms, satisfied with his consensus. Zoro is convinced he processed all this two seconds ago and spat it out half-baked. This must be a spur-of-the-moment thing and, frankly, Zoro wants no part of it. But, walking away would mean giving up a second time, and he sure as hell isn't going to concede. They stare each other down with enough intensity that their six spectators squirm.

"Well…" a small, mousy kid begins, situated in the middle of the group-huddle. The others are almost like a barricade, surrounding him as though Zoro might... might what? Start shit with someone who looks like he's still in middle school?

Unlikely, given that Zoro has never even noticed him before. Although, the hat currently sat on his head does make him somewhat memorable. It's a tall, fuzzy, pink monstrosity with a big white X plastered on the front. He's seen the hat before, floating in the hallways, but not the boy attached to it.

"I don't mind if he comes along," Hat Boy continues after a few seconds, timid as all get out. "He doesn't seem so bad, and who— well, who knows? It could be sort of, um, fun to have someone… new around."

The last two words come out as a squeak once he realizes everyone's attention has become focused on him. He jumps behind the biggest kid there: a teenager the size of a fucking tank with an actual _nose made of metal_. The sun glints off of it. He boasts the exact hairstyle of Elvis Presley, only he's dyed it a shocking aqua color. Maybe it isn't dyed, considering Zoro's own bizarre but natural hair color. Jesus. How the ever-loving fuck had he not noticed he was going to school with this pack of weirdos who would stand out in a circus crowd?

Sure, maybe he gets a pass because he's only been here a few months. He'd gotten expelled from his last school, having run out of suspensions. Or at least the school wouldn't _allow_ him any more than the six he'd already racked up halfway through the year. This school was his only other option in the area. He'd had to seriously cut back on the fighting or risk losing his sanctuary.

At least the people here don't snitch as much as the last school. And this one is apparently filled with kids even _he_ would blend in with. It explains where the dipshits who make irritating comments divert their attention to. Or maybe it's just the reputation he brought with him.

 _Roronoa Zoro, Asshole Loner._ That's him. _Probably killed a man,_ they gossip. _Got his entire torso inked up with satanic shit and the skulls of his victims._ Laughable, on top of the other half of bullshit he's taunted for.

He wonders who the people in front of him are. What labels teen culture has all but stamped to their foreheads. Why the fuck they're approaching him when they sure as shit hear what people say about him.

In either case, Zoro at least vaguely knows the giant as Franky. They'd had woodshop together, in which Franky had definitely been... _entertaining_ , if not grudgingly impressive. The assignment had been to make clocks. Zoro's finished product looked a little something like a potato with numbers on it. Franky's had fine detailing and, somehow, _played fucking music_.

Zoro frowns. They hadn't said a word to each other in class. He has no clue why the other teen— why _any_ of them would want to start now.

"Oh, great. Let's hold hands and sing fucking kumbaya!" He throws his arms up, then crosses them again, rolling his eyes. "Is this a joke? Are you pranking me right now?"

It wouldn't be the first time.

"No!" Hat Boy squeals, eyes dipping back toward the ground when they accidentally meet Zoro's. "We— um. We—"

"We wouldn't do such a thing," says the dark-haired girl, gaze unnerving in how steady it is by contrast.

"Sure... right. Because I'm such a ray of sunshine. But still, are we just assuming I _want_ to go on your little trip?" Zoro asks, and internally smirks.

He knows how this goes. _Give them a hard enough time and they'll give up. Talk to them long enough and they'll hate you._

But quicker than lightning Luffy is pressing him again, stare earnest. Honest. "Do you?"

Zoro's brain does the mental equivalent of a hiccup. _Does he?_ "I… I don't know."

 _Liar, liar,_ his mind whispers. _Of course, you want to go. You'll get to leave for who the hell knows how long, and with a good excuse._

He wishes that weren't true, but god, does he hate being an orphan, once trapped in the system and forever bouncing from house to house. Because the last family — and the family before _and_ after that one — couldn't 'handle' Zoro.

They eventually found someone to fit the role of Zoro's parent. Except said someone sucks at said parental role. He's had the same guardian for a while now, but she _certainly_ isn't an improvement. He would rather her be like all the others and simply ignore his existence. And to think, at one point he'd wished one of his families would pay more attention to him. _Be careful what you wish for, dumbass._

Zoro blinks and tries to quit thinking about his home-life. It's never a spectacular idea to let himself go down that road. It's dangerous, self-destructive. The reason he's been wondering if he can stand to keep living the way he is until the end of this summer. Or even long enough to see graduation next year.

Maybe, just maybe, going on some shitty cross-country road trip with these people could be exactly what he needs. It's seven different kinds of crazy, though. They _are_ near-perfect strangers. Once they're not, they'll probably ditch him at the side of the road the first chance they get. He shouldn't even be considering it when Alvida won't—

"Come on, Zoro!" Luffy pleads, stepping forward and placing his hands on his shoulders. He shakes him lightly. "I really want you to come with us…"

Zoro's so thrown by it all: his first name and not the typically impersonal _Roronoa,_ the hands atop his shoulders, Luffy's sincere voice, those stupid puppy-dog eyes that trip him up more than anything and— _fuck_. No one is ever so direct with him. There's always some hidden fucking mind-game he should know how to play before it even begins, but Luffy seems so goddamn straightforward. Right off the bat. It's doing weird things to his stomach.

He prays it's indigestion.

He groans, hanging his head before looking up again. "I'm going to completely regret this, but… _fine_ , I'll come with you, goddammit."

_What the fuck do I have to lose, anyway? They could be murderers and it wouldn't even matter. Ditched later or not, I'd still be away from here._

He's still half-convinced it's a prank, but—

Everyone on the sidewalk grins, save for the dark-haired girl, who only smiles a tiny smile.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Luffy screams in victory, releasing Zoro to fist-pump the air. "Hell yes!"

Zoro's lips tingle, and then _he's_ _smiling_ before he even knows why. He guesses Luffy's excitement is contagious, because a feeling warms him that he thinks he could, perhaps, _maybe_... call happiness. Genuine, positive emotion. Right. Maybe he should act a little less like an asshole and find something better than 'Hat Boy' and 'Curly Brow' to call them in his subconscious.

He clears his throat, and Luffy calms down a little but his grin doesn't disappear. It's like a permanent fixture on his face. "We… should probably do introductions. I hardly know any of you."

Luffy blinks, proving Zoro's theory wrong when his grin drops as well. "Wow, you're right… didn't even think of that before inviting you, to be honest."

"I thought so."

He's never hung out with Luffy's group. Zoro doesn't hang out with anyone, not since—

He slams the door on that line of thought altogether and turns more towards the group.

"So…" he begins, somewhat awkwardly, "I'm Roronoa Zoro."

"Boy do we fucking _know_ it..." Curly Brow mutters, prompting twin glares from the girls. The orange-haired one whacks his shoulder.

Zoro is both off-put and strangely touched. Curly Brow evidently hates him already, but his friends kind of defended _Zoro_ by not snickering along. They apparently don't want to bring up the rumors and shit, which— well, he's not sure what the fuck to make of that.

Luffy, ever unflappable, ignores the entire thing. His grin makes a comeback, bright and wide, hands fisting themselves proudly on his hips. "Monkey D. Luffy, nice to meetcha!"

Zoro smirks. "Well, I knew that, but…" his gaze lands on the shy boy who'd spoken up before, "but I definitely don't know you."

The kid squeaks and jerks back behind Franky. Zoro's surprised his hat doesn't fly off. Franky, however, throws his head back and laughs, loud and gruff as he shoves his friend out into the open.

For the first time, Zoro notices how alarmingly short Franky's shorts are. And tight. Hell, his whole outfit is strange: a floral button-up gaping open and… shorts. Are they really shorts? Because they're teetering on the edge of speedo territory.

Zoro vows not to look below the waist too long, but he does wonder how Franky managed to dodge the teachers that wield the dress-code with an iron fist.

"Yo!" Franky cheers, a giant hand jutting out to shake his. "I'm Franky!"

Zoro takes the extended hand. He's expecting a firm handshake — because _holy_ _shit_ is this dude ripped — but the force of it is brain-rattling in a way he didn't count on. His scrambling wits almost miss the explanation of Franky's hate for roll call in school. His real name is Cutty Flam. Zoro thinks he'd want to be called Franky, too, if he had a name like that.

"And this..." Franky grins and pushes the pink-hatted boy out from behind him again. It does nothing, as he immediately hides half-way again. "This is Chopper."

God, he can only imagine the fucked up jokes a pair named 'Cutty' and 'Chopper' inspired.

"Hey there." Zoro gives Chopper a nod, wondering why he seems to scare the kid so much.

Is it the height difference? Or is he really just that scary? It's most likely the latter, considering Franky _towers_ over him. Zoro could bathe in the number of nickels he'd earn if he charged one for every variation of 'scary' he's called.

But in the end, Chopper scans him head to toe, smiles the slightest bit, waves shyly, and decides to stay in view. It's kind of cute. Zoro can't believe he allows himself to think that.

The blond one steps forward next, and Zoro holds back a scoff now that he's looking at him beyond a glance. He's never seen someone so overdressed for high school in his life: suit and tie, expensive-looking shoes. One side of his face is visible while the rest stays obscured with a flop of blond hair. And Zoro can't stop himself. It's physically and mentally impossible for him to not make a crack about that damn swirly eyebrow. Fair is fair when the other teen has already made several snippy comments about him.

" _Please_ tell me your name is Curly Brow or some shit. It'll make my life."

The group gives a startled ripple of laughter, but the blond scowls. Zoro knows he's hit a nerve. The suited teen's jaw clenches hard enough to crush the cigarette between his teeth. "Watch it, you shitty Marimo. And for the record, my name is Sanji."

It's Zoro's turn to glare. "What the fuck did you call me, dartboard brow?"

"Oh-ho, sore spot, huh?" Sanji smirks, oozing condescension. "It's pretty obvious, but idiots do usually need clarification." He points at Zoro and acts like he's talking down to a five-year-old. "Hair. _Green_. Moss ball. _Marimo_. What, you _look_ Japanese but don't know something so goddamn simple?"

_Oh, that's it._

"I'm gonna knock your teeth in," Zoro growls, taking a step forward despite the cloud of smoke doing so sends him into. Not that he actually cares, given how much he's around it daily.

But it's not _his_ fault his genetics don't give a shit about logical hair colors. And they can blame whoever the fuck his birth parents are for not being around to teach him about his own culture.

"I'd love to see you try," Sanji taunts back, stepping closer as well.

Before either of them can do anything else, the seething orange-haired girl stalks over and kicks them both in the shin. "Stop bickering!"

"Jesus _christ_ , what the hell is your problem?!" Zoro questions through a grimace, clutching at his abused leg. _Damn_ , that girl can kick.

She rounds on him, pointing an accusing finger. "You started this, Zoro, you get no sympathy."

"The hell I did! He's the one who—"

Her glare turns the words to ash in his mouth, which he promptly shuts even as he scowls back. She switches to Sanji, smacking him on the back of the head. "And you, you should know better!"

"I'm so sorry, my beautiful princess! Forgive me!" he grovels, dropping to his knees.

"Hmm, okay," mutters the long-nosed kid, "I guess he's in _that_ kind of mood with her today."

Luffy snickers and the dark-haired girl rolls ice-blue eyes.

Sanji remains on the ground, and Zoro wants to kick him. He wants to kick him so, so much it takes all his self-control not to. He doesn't even let his sore leg touch the sidewalk because he _will_ give in.

"Whatever," she huffs, crossing her arms and looking back at Zoro, eyeing him warily as Chopper had done. "I'm Nami, by the way."

"Lovely," he deadpans, expression flat.

But then he sees the time on his watch as he releases his leg and all the air leaves his body in a single rush. Shit. It is _late_. He's really fucking late. But... he doesn't _want_ to leave. As much as he already dislikes Sanji, this is the most fun he's had in _ages_.

"Hey," he says, cursing his body for betraying him as his hands begin to shake. He slips them into his pockets, hoping nobody notices. "Sorry, but could we just blurt out names, now? I need to get home soon."

Luffy tilts his head like he wants to ask something, but he seems to change his mind as he only nods. He points to the long-nosed boy. "That's Usopp, and he's sort of a liar and a coward."

"Wh— this is just— how _rude._ I am the epitome of a truthful, upstanding citizen whom you all should try to emulate and—"

Nami puts her hand over Usopp's mouth. "No. Hush the fuck up."

"That's Robin," Luffy continues without missing a beat, gesturing to the blue-eyed girl. She smiles kindly, and Zoro thinks she's nice enough compared to the only other female in the group, until Luffy adds, "She's really, really smart and really, really likes knives and reading gay porn."

Her smile widens and a chill goes down his spine.

Still, he nods. "Yeah, nice to meet you all… except for you," he narrows his eyes at Sanji.

"Believe me, Marimo, the feeling's mutual."

"Eat shit, Swirly." He waves to the rest of them. "See ya."

Zoro smirks as he turns around and starts walking back down the street. He closes his eyes for a moment, wondering what time he'll actually get home. How severe his punishment will be. His stomach twists at the thought.

He hasn't made it more than two blocks before he hears Luffy yelling after him, sandals slapping the cement as he runs, "Wait, Zoro!"

He doesn't have time for this right now, but he stops anyway. "Yeah?"

"Do you…" Luffy sucks in a breath, hands on his knees as he pants. "Okay. So, I totally forgot I'm gonna need your number for later. But also—" He huffs, straightening up. "Do you need a ride home?"

Zoro raises his eyebrows. "You have a car?"

Luffy nods rapidly. "Well, an old VW van. It's Usopp's. Kind of has to do with the whole road trip plan."

"Oh, right, you mentioned that."

"So do you?"

"I… sure."

There's no real reason to refuse. It's exactly what he needs right now. He's already late, but he doubts he'll make it back home before the sun starts to set if he walks like normal. That would be infinitely worse.

Zoro gasps, unsure of how well he hides his initial flinch, as Luffy grabs him by the wrist and starts dragging him.

"We're taking Zoro home!" he yells as they pass the others, who grin and snicker as he's tugged like a dog on a leash.

It's odd how Zoro doesn't immediately want to wrench his arm away, but he decides not to think about that. Or how quickly his heart is beating. And he's _definitely not_ blushing. Nuh-uh, no, sir.

They reach the school's parking lot, and somehow Luffy winds up holding Zoro's hand rather than his wrist. He can't even linger on that fact when he's staring at what seems to be a cloud. Somehow that doesn't seem right. It's too… fluffy.

Luffy laughs. "The back's not even the best part!"

They bypass the side of the van, black squiggles and half-formed circles marring its stark whiteness here and there. But when they reach the front, Zoro's jaw unhinges and he just _stares_.

"Awesome, right?"

"I... I guess so."

'Bizarre as fuck' would be a better description, in all honesty. But he isn't going to tell Luffy, who _likes_ the van this way, something so rude. He's trying to be nice to these people, against his better judgment and instinct not to.

"We call her Merry."

Of fucking _course_ , it has a name. At least it isn't anything worse like 'Gertrude', which would be an insult to Gertrudes everywhere, because this is a _sheep-Volkswagen hybrid._

The paint-job is intricate; it's white and swirly and its headlight-sticker eyes pierce into his soul as if they know all his secrets. Each side mirror is covered in a thick white fuzz, which makes for a pair of hilariously deformed ears. The VW symbol on the front stands out in pink and— oh _god_ —it functions as the nose.

It's the mother of all sheep, Zoro decides, and it is from _hell._

"Hello… Merry," he greets the vehicle, because why the fuck shouldn't he talk to it? He has a strong suspicion it will baa at him from the dark, curious depths of its engine if they start it. He wonders what its guts look like. Better referred to as the interior, but guts might be more fitting in this case.

"Why are you talking to the van like Usopp does?" Luffy pokes him in the side, prompting him to squirm and glare.

"It might baa back," he voices his earlier train of thought.

"Oh." Luffy hums, and Zoro slaps his hand away as he tries for another poke. "I tried, but it never did, so I stopped making myself look crazy."

"I'll follow your example."

After they stare, even _more_ , Luffy tells him in unnerving seriousness, "We're going to put a sail on the roof."

Zoro pales. Luffy's face is not that of a joking man's. "What kind of sail?"

"A _pirate's_ sail!" Luffy grins.

"Sounds great," Zoro says with no excitement. Wow, he is _so_ glad he decided to stop talking to the sheep-van since it made _him_ sound crazy.

"It's going to be a kickass skull—" he taps his tattered hat "—wearing this."

Zoro nods, almost asking Luffy's reason for even wearing the hat. He doesn't think he's ever seen him around the school without it.

"Hopefully we don't get arrested for it," Luffy adds, nonchalant.

He wonders why he ever agreed to this. "You should just put a flag on the antenna. You can't go through a tunnel or most places with a sail erecting out of the top of the van like some giant pirate boner. Plus, no jail-time or pissed off cops with a quota for how many tickets they have to give to idiots of the road."

Luffy blinks, then smiles and goes in for a hug that makes him redden and tense up. "Zoro's so smart! We'll do that instead!"

He has to ask himself why, for the millionth time, he doesn't kick Luffy where it hurts and shove him away. Physical contact makes his skin crawl. Luffy's arms around his neck don't feel _bad,_ though. They don't sic phantom ants on his flesh as they should. And earlier, even the hands on his shoulders, on his wrist, on his _own_ hand were more of a comfort than a discomfort. Does he… actually _like_ this? No. No way. Why? How the fuck—

"Merry! How I missed you during these dark school hours!" a dramatic voice dispels his building hysteria, sounding from the back of the van. Zoro detangles himself from his new friend — yeah, he _thinks_ , with no small amount of uncertainty, he can call him his friend. Luffy follows as he goes to investigate.

What he finds, however, makes him wish he hadn't. Usopp is feeling up the van. His whole body presses against the back window, and he rubs Merry's sides like a pervert would rub suntan lotion on underage girls at the beach.

Zoro hates himself for the imagery he comes up with sometimes.

"Oh my god, not again," Nami groans, now standing beside Luffy. Zoro fears for Usopp because she looks ready to dig the heels of her pumps into his eye-sockets. "Oh, Sanji!" she yells sweetly.

Her personality has taken a complete one-eighty.

Zoro nudges Luffy in the ribs. "What is she going to do?"

"Well, _she_ isn't going to do anything," Luffy explains without explaining anything at all.

He'll have to see what that means for himself.

"Nami~ my princess! What is it that you need?" Sanji sprints into the parking lot at break-neck speed. It's a miracle he doesn't fall right on his face. He clasps his hands together under his chin once he reaches Nami.

He wiggles wildly from side to side, and Zoro's reminded of those inflatable noodle-men stationed in front of car dealerships. The resemblance is uncanny, and now he knows for certain: the dude is _whipped_.

"Could you _please_ stop Usopp from having sex with the car?"

"Of course, my dear." Sanji smiles stupidly at her, but then he looks away and sees Usopp, still feeling up the van. Zoro watches Sanji take out another cigarette, light it, and proceed to frown deeper and deeper until he's scowling like he just discovered gum on the bottom of his fancy dress shoe.

Zoro raises an eyebrow and whispers into Luffy's ear again. "They mesh so well together because they're both psychotic, right?"

Luffy looks extremely confused for a minute, but then his eyes light up in understanding. "Oh, no. They're not dating. Sanji would pretty much do anything for Nami, and he can act all sweet. _But_ they fight like crazy and call each other names and drive each other insane most of the time. What you're seeing right now is actually pretty rare."

_As if they aren't both thoroughly insane already. Over-exposure to each other?_

"Holy fuck, are you _sure?"_ Zoro asks.

Because right now Sanji's slamming his foot into Usopp's side, sending him crashing to the ground with no warning. Zoro's got to hand it to him. It effectively puts an end to what was turning into a love-fest between man and van. Usopp doesn't even move afterward. He just lays there, face down and in star-formation on the asphalt, moaning about how they all hate him.

"Nah, that's nothing," Luffy answers, "they just both have a thing for violence, maybe."

"Is that what you call it?"

"Feel free to call it something else if you want a broken rib."

Been there, done that, rated four out of ten.

Zoro shakes away his snap-response, then scoffs. "I'm not scared or anything—" _okay, maybe only slightly of the orange-haired one, because she kind of reminds me of Alvida_ "—but I'll take your word for it."

Sanji sticks the tip of his shoe under Usopp, flipping him over like a pancake to assess the damage he's done. He scoffs. "Shut the hell up, you're not even scratched."

"How dare you!" Usopp gasps as though Sanji's offended him in the worst way possible. Though, honestly, how much worse could he have been called than the inevitable sheep-molester? "I'll have you know my pride is hideously bruised, Sanji. It'll never recover!"

"You know what your pride should be wounded over? The fact that the only thing you can even bump uglies with is _a_ _form of transportation_. _My_ ass has ridden it, _Luffy's_ has ridden it! And that, right there, is sad as fuck."

"W-well, it's the only action you're getting, too, then!"

"Are you sure?" Sanji drawls. " _Luffy's ass_ , Usopp. Let that sink in."

Luffy cocks his head to the side. "Why do they keep dragging my ass into this?"

Zoro almost says _'because it's a nice ass'_ before he catches himself. It's enough to get his cheeks turning red, though. He simply mumbles, "Hell if I know…" and stares at an interesting pebble on the street.

Luffy pokes his shoulder. "Hey, we should get you home, right?"

His head snaps back up. He'd completely forgotten. _Again_. Luffy and his friends have a talent for making hours fly. And causing his deeply-ingrained priorities to jump out of windows.

"Oh, yeah," he says, hoping his panic doesn't show outwardly. The shake in his hands is back with a vengeance. "I'm pretty late as it is. Thanks for remembering."

"No problem." Luffy grins and prods him toward the sheep-van from hell, yelling for the rest of the crew to pile in as he goes. Zoro dawdles around a bit, not knowing where he's supposed to put himself. The front, the back, maybe strapped to the fucking roof?

It doesn't help that Luffy disappears from his side with a brief, "Oh, hold on!"

Staring awkwardly at Merry's swirly side, Zoro listens to another escalating argument.

"Hey, Usopp, gimme the keys!" Luffy demands.

"W-What?!" Usopp stammers. "No way, not a chance! You'll crash my baby!"

"I make no promises, but—"

"Gah! Excuse you, your hand does _not_ go there. Stop pulling or I'm going to blow my rape whistle!"

A full-body shiver goes through him. He forces himself to breathe out. Focus on the arguing idiots. Idiots who didn't mean to dump a metaphorical bucket of icy water on him.

"—cause I'm going to take the whole key chain."

"Like hell you will!"

"Urgh! Just. This. Once! Gimme—"

Usopp shrieks, interrupted by his own pained yelps. "He bit me, he bit me!" he wails.

Luffy darts around the side of Merry, laughing, the keys clutched in his sky-raised fist. His chest heaves, hair tousled in a criminally attractive way. The breathless grin on his face as he tosses the keys up before catching them makes Zoro think he might be dying. Or at the very least having major heart palpitations.

 _Go away, gay thoughts,_ _you are_ _ **not**_ _welcome right now. Or ever. Not good, NOT good— you barely know this kid, for fuck's sake._

"Come on! You get the front seat." Luffy waggles the keys in front of him.

Zoro doesn't move an inch. He just breathes and ogles at him.

Eventually, Luffy rolls his eyes and tugs him along by the wrist again. He opens the passenger-side door, and Zoro blushes profusely but lifts himself into the van. He crosses his arms over his chest, feeling awkward again as he watches Luffy jump into the driver's seat.

The engine roars to life — no baaing, Zoro notes with minimal disappointment.

Sanji snickers from the back. "You look like a fucking lobster!"

Zoro spins around and glares when the blond dissolves into full-blown laughter. "Keep laughing and I'll give you something to cry about instead!"

Sanji waves a dismissive hand and sits back down.

He takes the opportunity to assess Merry's guts. The seats in the back resemble benches made of black leather, settled under curtained windows. They face each other, running along the walls of the van. It leaves those in the back seats staring at whoever is across from them, which is... kind of weird. And maybe illegal? But, hell, he doesn't know van-law.

He and Luffy are separated from the rest at Merry's head. A fair-sized gap between their single chairs allows them to get into the back of the van.

The center is a wide free space for limbs and other random items. Merry is probably longer and wider than your average Volkswagen. It's almost a motor-home. Zoro figures his first clue should have been how she stuck at least four feet out of the parking space.

 _How_ had he managed to miss this fucking monster of a vehicle when he walked into school? It's more like a mini-bus than a van if he had to describe Merry's general size. Where the fuck did Usopp get this thing?

"Alright, Zoro," Luffy grabs his attention, "tell me where to go."

Zoro rattles off directions he hopes are right, with Luffy occasionally interrupting for clarification, and they finally leave the school behind them for the rest of the summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold on tight. We're meeting Alvida next.


	3. Die Young and Save Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alvida is a fucking nightmare and Zoro makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty heavy. It's where the content warnings/TW's are important. I apologize in advance...? Feel free to skip to the last line break near the end of the chapter if it's too much.

* * *

The drive home is relatively normal — save for the fact that he's _getting a ride home._ Zoro feels like he's watching it all happen from outside his own body. Like it isn't him this is happening to. He gets out of the van after exchanging phone numbers with Luffy, telling him he'll call once he knows he can go on the trip. The others yell their muffled goodbyes.

Zoro watches until Merry's driven out of sight, then turns and walks up the porch. He tries to ignore the truck parked in the driveway. The truck works. It runs just fine. But the woman he lives with will never waste gas on driving him to or picking him up from school when he can walk. _At least it's exercise_ , Zoro reminds himself. _At least you're not trapped in a car with her._

He pauses outside the front door, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. The sun has almost set, which is a huge indicator he's later than he's ever dared to be. Sucking in a deep breath, Zoro reaches for the knob, knowing it'll be unlocked like it always is, and twists. The acrid smell of cigarette smoke rushes to assault his nostrils and make his eyes water, but he has grown used to it by now, as well as the immediate sight that greets him.

Trash and bottles lay scattered, patches of carpet darkened by stains of who-fucking-knows-what. Random articles of clothing lay draped over the back of the couch, having been there so long it'd be stranger if they weren't. The occasional random bug skitters across the floor. There may be more creatures infesting the place, but he'd rather ignore it for the sake of his remaining sanity.

He kicks a stray can out of his path and marches through, numb to the near-constant filth surrounding him. He'd stopped trying to clean it up of his own volition years ago. It's not worth the effort when Alvida reduces it to an even worse state within a two-day time-frame. Except when she decides he _should_ pick her shit up and screeches at him, throwing things around like it's helpful to her cause. Zoro screeches back until he earns a backhand to the face and a lecture on his _chronic ungratefulness_.

He caves. The house becomes surface-level clean by morning. They rinse and repeat a month later. It's _pointless_ because he'll end up there no matter what he does.

Before he's even managed to traverse the living room, manicured fingernails dig into his forearm. Zoro stares blankly up into the eyes of his legal guardian: Alvida Mace.

She flicks her garishly orange hair from her eyelashes, a stark contrast to the hint of black roots at her center part. The smell of nicotine intensifies the closer she gets, proof of her habit of drinking/smoking away their money faster than she makes it. (Where she gets enough to support both of them _and_ her addiction—nails, hair, and all—he doesn't know and hopes to never find out.)

An oversized button-up shirt swamps her skinny frame, though it still struggles to reach mid-thigh length. The last three buttons are the few done up, so he can only hope she's wearing some underwear this time.

Zoro sighs. Not one word between them yet, and he's already exhausted.

The orange looks so much better on Nami. Probably because it's her hair's natural color. Plus, Alvida makes everything ugly.

Tired of looking up to maintain eye contact, he stares level with her collarbone.

"Where have you been?" she asks, calm unsettling considering he's two to three hours later than normal.

Zoro has something of a talent for getting lost. He'll often take a left when he's supposed to go right, even if he has a GPS bleating at him. It just takes him a large chunk of time to navigate his way back and— hell, he'd probably float into the atmosphere thinking it was the way to school if gravity didn't exist. It's ridiculous. He's lived here for years, and he's so ridiculously _stupid_ he can't even remember his way back. Luffy getting him here was an absolute miracle.

"Don't make me ask again," Alvida warns.

He smothers the laugh wanting to spring from his throat. She hasn't seen the fist-sized hole in his room yet if that's _all_ she's asking.

Zoro hazards a guess that, right now, she's either stoned or buzzed, but not flat-out drunk. There are still a few hours left in the day, though, so he'll cross that familiar bridge and scrape her off the floor when they get to it.

"I was hanging out with some friends."

He holds his breath.

Of all the responses he'd been expecting, howling laughter wasn't one of them.

It's a while before Alvida calms down enough to wipe away the tears accumulated at the corners of her eyes. It takes even longer for her to speak again due to a series of hacking coughs her throat grinds out.

"Fuck, you're hilarious. But seriously, where were you?"

He discreetly balls his hands into fists. "I told you. I was with some friends."

"Oh, Zoro, _sweetie."_ She ruffles his hair with a shiver-inducing smirk. Her hands clap onto his face, squeezing his cheeks together to make him resemble a fish. She lets go after a quick shake, pulls him in close. "At least come up with a better lie."

He inwardly shudders as pointy nails slither across his hip, then along the small of his back in repetitive motions. He fights the urge to recoil at both her pet-names and hands, knowing all too well what happens when he denies Alvida of her fun. But, then again, even when he _doesn't_ explicitly say no, doesn't deny her _anything…_

The slimy feeling that poisons physical contact comes rushing back. It settles beneath his skin and twines around his bones as if it belongs there. Maybe Luffy can erase it the next time they see each other, but he's not going to hold out hope. His comfort this afternoon was probably a fluke. Most of the good things in his life are.

"There's no need," she hisses into his ear, leaning down to his level. "We both know you don't have friends. Nobody likes you much, hon, and that's okay. Because _I_ like you."

Zoro shivers, twisting in her grip even as his brain screams to _stay still._ But— that's enough. He's had enough for now. "I'm _not_ fucking _lying."_

_Slap._ He winces. No amount of expectation can take the sharp sting out of his cheek. Her hand hooks under his jaw, a mockery of the almost-affectionate squish earlier, and forces him to face her. His neck twinges at the sudden change in position, chin straining upward. He gulps, tamping down the urge to back away before she switches to outright choking him.

"Watch it. You were late, and now you're going to insist I'm fucking stupid?" She squeezes his jaw tighter, and he starts to worry there might be fingerprint-bruises left by the time she lets go. "I know you don't have friends because you treat people like you're treating me right now. Like _shit."_

"I don't—"

"Don't argue. We've talked about this, so stop being such a brat. Is it that hard to follow a simple curfew?"

_"No,_ but I wasn't trying to—"

She huffs and winds her elbow back for another slap, green eyes glinting mean in the low light. He can tell by her reversed aim it'll land harsher than before. Zoro bites down hard on every instinct to raise his arms, protect himself. Open palms and backhands turn into fists when he pulls that shit.

"Wanna try again?"

"You're only hearing whatever you want," he snaps, equal parts thrilled and horrified at the way her expression scrunches in anger. Just once, he wants her to listen. He wants a chance at whatever Luffy's offering. "I lost track of time. I wasn't trying to do jack shit and you kno—"

_Slap._ His face snaps to the side so fast his neck creaks, skin splitting where her knuckles catch his cheekbone. She's wearing that damn ring again, and she doesn't care about leaving marks now that school is out. He grits his teeth against rising panic, eyes slanting to the hallway for no more than a nanosecond as he weighs the risk and reward of bolting.

The hand gradually fisting at her side decides for him. The risk outweighs the reward.

"Yes, you were. You _are._ You're trying to make me look stupid." She grabs him by the jaw again, but her touch and voice are softer now. The fist loosens. "Why do you have to do that?"

Zoro breathes out through his nose. Slowly. The words feel like gargling nails but, worse than that, he halfway means them. "I'm sorry."

She smiles at him, inching her fingers up to trace at the fresh cut on his cheek, a gentle kind of violence. "Me too, but you just— you make it so difficult sometimes, Zoro."

He nods. God, does he fucking know it. Wouldn't have gotten kicked out of two schools if it weren't at least a little true. What kind of nightmare child gets expelled from elementary?

She embraces him, squeezing Zoro against her chest with a happy hum. He hates himself for wanting to melt into it for even the tiniest moment. It's so much harder to hate her like this. Makes him wonder if he's going fucking crazy.

The cut still burning his cheek is only a fraction more convincing than Alvida's cooing and coddling.

"I always miss you when you're at school." She steps back again, keeping her hand on his face as she offers a demure smile. "It gets damn lonely, you know?"

"I..." He gawks at her, not knowing exactly how to feel about this revelation of hers, or whether he dares to move out of her grasp yet.

She stares back, waiting for something. Her eyebrows climb further toward her hairline the longer he remains silent. "Didn't you miss me, too? Aren't you glad we get to spend the whole summer together?"

It sounds more like a threat than a question. Fuck. She could flip again at any second, set off by one wrong move on his part. He can't—

He can't ask.

There is absolutely no way in hell he can go with Luffy.

"Of course," he mutters, half-hearted, but she grins regardless. "Right. So. I'm—" He blanks on his prepared excuse for a moment, hopeless anger battering at his skull in its place, but he quickly finds it. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Oh," she coos, tapping her fingers along his cheek, "don't tempt me to join you."

Zoro's chest squeezes in on itself unpleasantly, even as he gives a weak laugh in response. It amazes him how fast she can make him want to be physically sick. He pries Alvida's hand off his face and turns to walk to the hall bathroom, breathing an inaudible sigh of relief when she doesn't try to grab him again.

"Only kidding! Still, we're going to talk more about why you were late when you're out. I expect a better excuse than the one you tried to give me," she says, words he knows are likely an empty threat. She huffs another laugh as she walks into the kitchen. The sound of the fridge opening and bottles clanking as she selects one makes him cringe. She'll be a _lot_ less tolerable when he comes back. "Hah, that's just too good. _Friends."_

Zoro clenches his teeth. He wants to slam the bathroom door, but refrains. Alvida won't appreciate it while drowning herself in alcohol. He strips down and cranks the water. A scalding spray pounds his back, trying to ward off the frigid numbness at his core.

He isn't going to bother telling her what he already knows. Had she said that yesterday, she would've been right. Or perhaps she's still right. Zoro might be deluding himself into thinking Luffy and the others are actually his friends, or even could be.

He's forgotten what it's like to have them. And if Alvida had reacted this way to the mere _mention_ of friends, what about the trip? What will her answer be when he asks about going on a road trip with the same people she doesn't even believe exist?

And she has her heart set on spending the entire goddamn summer with him.

Zoro tries to prolong the shower. He probably takes around thirty minutes or more just terrorizing himself with that thought.

_Two months, no breaks. No chance for survival. I'm gonna fucking die._

Because, yeah, he's spent summers with her before, but it's so much worse knowing another option exists.

Freezing cold water shakes him out of it sometime later, and he gets out with stilted movements. His teeth chatter as he wraps a towel around his waist, all the while hating how public this bathroom feels. He stares at the closed door for a long moment, breath quick and shallow as he tries to figure out what the fuck he forgot. It claws at the back of his brain, something vital yet ridiculous, but this entire day has already been so goddamn weird he doesn't know where to start.

He sighs, accepting it for what it is, and clicks the lock.

One step into the hall, Zoro's only warnings are the knock-out smell of vodka-breath and a high-pitched giggle before Alvida's in his face. Her fingers curl around the top half of his towel, nails grazing his stomach in her haste. He gasps and Alvida tugs downwards, just a tiny bit, but it's enough.

"We don't need this silly thing, right, Zoro?"

The vital, forgotten thing hits him like a freight train.

_Clothes._

He forgot a _change of clothes_ and now he doesn't stand a snowball's chance in hell.

He's practically serving himself up to her on a silver platter. He should know better. He _does_ know better. _Fucking idiot, what the hell is wrong with you today?_

A sunshine smile flashes in his head, and his heart sinks. _Of fucking course—_ he's distracted. Still up in the clouds after talking to Luffy and the others when he shouldn't _ever—_

Alvida grins, all teeth and gums, as she twirls the towel tauntingly in one hand. The other is on his chest, pressing him into the wall until she can step close enough to keep him there using her body. She's drunk beyond question.

"It's like— it's like that song, y'know? Girls just wanna have fuh-un!" she sing-songs with a shrill giggle. Balance abysmal, she pitches forward until she's completely plastered against him. "Oh, I _missed_ you."

His skin crawls, but he doesn't dare shove away from her. Nothing about this situation is normal, for all that it's familiar enough to replay flawlessly in his nightmares.

Her nails scrape into his scalp, fingers clamping down, pulling his hair so hard moving might cost him a chunk of it. His senses go haywire with the proximity, the scent of alcohol, nicotine, and cheap perfume clogging his nose. Her grip slides to his arms, trailing hell-fire against bare skin as she eclipses his mouth with hers. He gags, choking on a scream and the tongue pushing down his throat.

He stumbles backward, but the hell-fire only spreads as she presses forward in turn. His arms slam into the wall above his head, wrist-bones grinding, and any relief at regaining his breath is swept away by hers, a wet warmth against his neck. Teeth latch, and he's left gasping, squirming, muttering incessantly.

Her lips thin out, just for a moment, and he shudders under the feeling of her smile.

"Love you."

Zoro gasps and pushes her away harder than he has in a long time.

(He _knows_ she enjoys it, because— _ugh, it's nice when you stop, but the fighting is such a turn-on and—_ )

And Alvida smacks him, forcing him to the floor though he collapses like a house of cards anyway, synapses playing roulette with his fight-flight-freeze response. "Don't you love me, too? Baby? Oh, Zoro, baby—" It spills from her mouth into his as she crowds him. "You love me. Know you do. I can feel it."

He shakes his head, frantic.

She shakes hers back, forehead rolling against his as her thighs cage his hips. Her hair tickles his collarbone when she presses closer and grinds down with a huffed laugh. "See?"

Zoro wants to scream. Doesn't understand how the unending sound in his brain hasn't leaked from his ears or ripped up his throat yet. Her weight compresses him, heavier than should be possible when he chooses flight and attempts another break at freedom.

(He's never been successful. Not outwardly. The mind is half the trick. There's a labyrinth in there. Of walls with door-shaped holes and cages to lock himself in and corners— _so many doors_ labeled bold and beautiful with _escape escape escape)_

Fuck, but he's unlucky tonight. She's not drunk enough to pass out before this goes too far.

He shudders again, breath hitching. Alvida isn't wearing anything but the shirt, and he can feel every bit of it. She rolls her hips again, moaning exaggeratedly. Zoro's lungs can't figure out if they want to draw air or lock it out as she reaches behind her, nails rasping along his legs, up and up and—

"STOP!" Zoro slams the back of his head into the floor and pushes upward with what little leverage it gives him. "Stop, I don't want—" He bucks his hips in a vain effort to put more than a centimeter between them, thoughts tidal-waving into a litany of _please stop please stop pleasepleaseplease._

She doesn't listen. Zoro's own _body_ won't listen and all he wants is to crawl out of his own skin to escape its betrayal.

"Stop lying." Alvida snarls and digs her nails into his chest.

She pushes toward him, mouthing at his jaw, and drags them across with enough pressure that burning trails appear. Tiny beads of blood surface along each line and Zoro can't help but whimper and press himself back into the floor.

Alvida uses it as an opportunity to take what she wants. She groans and mewls and Zoro wishes with everything in him he was already fucking _dead_ a whole week beforehand. Years beforehand. He bites into his bottom lip harshly and squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to feel only pain and not the pulsing heat around him.

He has to stay, he reminds himself. He has to stay, for now, because it's his one-in-a-fucking-million chance to see _her_ again. He closes his eyes and sees blue, like oceans splattered across his eyelids. An old tremor goes through him. The more he does this, the more he becomes a broken record. Forever stuck on continuously shattering hopes, because it's been _six goddamn years._

Zoro takes a deep breath through his nose.

_Just remember blue. Blue, blue, blue —_ the record in his mind stutters, starting to spin _—_ _ **black**_ _hair and eyes and a smile like sunlight—_

His stomach flips with realization. Distraction or not, he might have another reason now, too. Luffy and Chopper and all the others are here. Fighting back will rip their new friendship/acquaintanceship to shreds. Damn his feelings, but he's not ready to let go after one afternoon of even _semi_ -happiness.

Alvida pushes herself off of him with a self-satisfied sigh, and Zoro heaves in a gasp at the absence of her weight. His fingers refuse to loosen their death-grip on the carpet, thoughts simultaneously a whirlwind and silent. She sits up against the opposite wall, legs wide open in a disgusting display of what he doesn't want to see after she's reminded him of what it feels like.

She continues leering at him from a distance, her eyes hooded and pupils blown wide. It repulses him that some men, kids from his goddamn _school,_ would kill to be in his position. An older woman willing to screw a minor? Fan- _fucking_ -tastic. Snaps for Zoro.

"Aw, what's that nasty look for, baby? We were having fun, weren't we?" Alvida feigns innocence, bottom lip jutting out in a pout that makes Zoro sneer. Only a practiced ear allows him to understand her slurring.

He jerks upright, wincing at the burning pain on his chest while he tries to get his body's shaking under control. And then _numb_ is all he can feel (not feel?) for a full minute or longer. Until pins and needles ripple across his skin, static shock screeching _yeah, that happened again._ He inhales sharply, the room snapping back into focus as he makes a conscious effort not to cry or panic or scream. Dig his nails into the scratches to see if it'll subdue the nauseous clench of his stomach. It takes longer than he's proud of to get his vocal cords to work. Like she's stolen his words along with everything else.

_"Don't_ call me that. And, no, that wasn't fucking fun for me," he spits, hating himself for the evident tremble in his voice. _But it was for you. Always for you._

Alvida snorts and picks up a half-empty bottle of god knows what he hadn't noticed. "Who else is going to love you? You're a mess. Sure, a hot one with that pretty face, but still a _mess._ So, tell me, who the fuck's gonna love someone like you?"

Zoro doesn't answer, doesn't object. He isn't going to correct her analysis. Not when a voice deep down inside him is whispering the same thing. He's not even worthy of being called a hot mess. He's more of a... lukewarm clutter.

And yet, what throws him for a loop is how she avoids eye-contact and gestures at nothing but air. How Alvida almost sounds like she's talking to _herself,_ not Zoro.

But the keyword is 'almost'. Not _quite_ shoving Zoro back into the pit of self-loathing he knows, only giving him a helpful nudge in the right direction. She takes his silence as a choice to ignore her question.

Alvida puts a hand to her ear, like she needs Zoro to speak up, when she mocks, "Oh, what was that? _Nobody will?_ Boo-fuckin'-hoo!" She scowls, taking another swig of her poison of the night. She gestures in the air again, as though confused. "I mean, I'm _supposed_ to love you. I do it because I love you. I'm your mom."

Zoro grits his teeth, biting back the immediate _NO YOU'RE NOT_ that shouts over her.

She is not his mom. His mother? Perhaps, if people need to know who she is to him legally. Even then, the correct term is 'foster mother'. But _mom?_ Hell no, it's too personal a term, one he's never associated with anyone. And— and where does _love_ come into this equation? His brain aches with the effort it takes to understand what the fuck that means. He's never understood it.

Whatever it is he and Alvida have for each other, he's positive it is not this myth called love. (He ignores the part of him that gnashes its teeth and sneers _how the fuck would you know it's not? How could you ever tell?)_

Her logic about it is so twisted, though. It's so incredibly fucked up that Zoro can't find valid reasoning in it. He muddles through the process of trying to over and over again, but—

This isn't normal. It is, but it's _not._ No matter how bad his other foster homes were, this wasn't part of the routine. He thinks he remembers that much. Between all the harsh touches and harsher words, touch like _this,_ like _Alvida's—_

Something in Zoro snaps.

He disregards that he's naked, gets up, and stalks into the kitchen. After Luffy and the others treated him as a real person, coming home to be nothing more than Alvida's dirty little secret pushes him over the edge. It pushes him to do the one thing he never imagined he might have the courage for. But perhaps rage makes up the difference. He opens the fridge, the cabinets, anywhere she might stash it. Bottle after bottle of random alcohol finds its way into his arms.

One by one, he pours their contents down the drain.

"Hey, Zoro, d'you wanna go again?" Alvida staggers into the kitchen several minutes later. She apparently just noticed he's no longer in the hallway. Her eyes widen as she registers the pile of empty bottles by the sink. She starts muttering to herself slowly, "One… two… three… four… nine… shit, no, that's five… six, seven— did I drink all those? No, no… I—" she gasps, _"Zoro!"_

Alvida screams bloody murder. She shrieks expletives like she's undergoing torture. And— god, he will _never_ understand how or why the neighbors haven't called the cops on their asses yet. She lunges at the remaining bottles, trying to wrench them away from Zoro.

"What the ever-loving _fuck_ do you think you're doing?!" she shouts, voice pitched high with hysteria. "That shit is expensive, you _bastard child!_ It's worth a _million_ of you!"

"Do you think I give a fuck?" he shouts back, and Alvida finally manages to pull one of her precious liquors from him. "Because I really, really don't!"

She screeches once again as she swings the bottle with wild precision. Zoro ducks just in time. Liquid splatters everywhere, hailing glass as the wayward bottle smashes into the fridge.

Though he should have, he doesn't expect the second swing.

The broken end swipes at him and he stumbles back, trying to dodge, but the slick floor makes him double-forward instead. He bites his tongue against a yell when sharp-edged glass catches him across the chest, tearing down toward his hip in one motion. She fumbles the bottle, dislodged by the connection of her own swing.

It rolls to a stop behind him with a dull thud he barely registers. Droplets of blood spatter the tile, liquid pain that makes his stomach turn and teeth grind. He instinctively touches the damage, fingertips barely brushing it before he pulls away with a hiss. His torso is on fire almost from shoulder to hip but—

But Zoro is still on his feet.

The kitchen goes silent, disturbed only by their gasping breaths.

After a brief moment of her brain playing catch-up, Alvida lets go. She slumps to the floor, sobbing in a puddle of her addiction.

It's a pathetic picture.

He might've felt sorry for her if she hadn't just tried to kill him. Among other things he isn't going to dwell on. He's used to feeling like a worthless piece of shit after it's all said and done. He knows, alright? He knows, and he doesn't need Alvida to remind him every goddamn day.

"I'm leaving," Zoro tells her shortly, already backing down the hallway. "I don't know when I'll be back."

And then he's in his room, _don't cry don't cry don't fucking cry_ running on a loop in his head. It's a stroke of luck he remembers to push his nightstand back in front of his door.

Not a moment too soon, either.

"Zoro!" The slab of wood creaks and rattles under the force of Alvida's fist as she beats on it. She twists the doorknob with wild abandon, an endless stop-and-start. "Zoro! Come back here and clean this the _fuck_ up, you little asshole!"

She calls it quits what could be minutes or hours later.

He has absolutely no clue because he loses his head enough to not remember curling himself in half around his knees. Cratered sideways in the center of his bed, moving seems like a terrible fucking idea. He'd rather not disturb the debris yet and have it all come crashing down.

For the longest time, Zoro just breathes and wishes he'd stop.

* * *

His palms remain pressed to his eyes until he's up to wiping down and putting some clothes on. It takes him a goddamn decade with his limbs feeling like they're made of lead.

He doesn't bother much with the scratches on his chest or his cheek. He dabs the largest one with a towel in a half-assed attempt to stop the bleeding and calls it good. None of them are major enough for him to waste bandages on. At least, he doesn't _think_ so, and he's hard-pressed to care if they sting like crazy. He deserves it, for allowing this to happen yet again.

To hell with it. He'll write Alvida a note. Some bullshit about summer school or Koshiro. Just so she won't call the cops preaching 'he was kidnapped!' because she was too drunk to remember anything.

Koshiro it is, then. Easier to corroborate.

He sticks the note right above the latest hole he punched in the drywall. Fuel to the fire. Like he needs to give her more reasons to murder him later. A delirious, bordering on hysterical laugh crackles out of him as he sways on dizzy feet. The sound is crazy even to his own ears, but it's just— it's funny, somehow. Petty. And she really will fucking kill him in all the ways she knows how over it.

When he feels less like he's going to vibrate out of his body, he gropes around under his bed. He comes up with a decent-sized, well-worn bag. A very familiar bag he's used countless times to leave one life behind him for another. He rummages through his closet, rolling up and throwing his clothes in haphazardly.

Zoro holds his breath as he risks a trip to the bathroom, grabbing anything he remembers with the terror roiling his stomach. Alvida doesn't make an appearance. Slamming his bedroom door is tempting, but he's rebelled enough for one night. He closes it at a turtle's pace, breathing shallow and quiet.

Soon enough, there's only one thing left to do.

He pulls his phone out with trembling fingers, hesitating even when his mind is already made up, and startles at the nearly-one-AM timestamp that greets him. He must have been lying there much longer than he thought. A weary huff escapes him.

It's now or never.

He finds the number and presses it with more force than necessary.

_"Zoro! Ohmygod, hey, Zoro!"_

Luffy's voice, loud and bright, is like music to his ears.

In spite of everything, Zoro cracks a small smile. "Hey. Do you— do you think you could drive the van down here and pick me up? We could… have a sleepover or something."

Or something, because he has exactly no fucking clue what normal teenagers do together. Especially ones that have known each other for less than a day. God, he hopes he's not about to get laughed at. Because it's asking too much, considering the time, and he doesn't have a good excuse, but—

_"Sure! Text me the address and I'll call you when I'm there, just have to make Usopp get up. By the way, did you figure out if you're coming with us on the trip?"_

This time, Zoro doesn't even hesitate. "Of course I'm going."

Luffy's answering shout of excitement is worth the trouble anyway.


	4. Sleepless in Suburbia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoro partakes in gang activities and falls over a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is SO LONG, but I swear there wasn't a great stopping point without breaking up flow other than the abrupt end of Luffy's POV. I tried and failed to create one. It just didn't sit right with me in the end, so enjoy this chaotic monster of a chapter.

Luffy sighs, glaring at Usopp. The long-nosed bastard has been snoring away and talking in his sleep about Merry for the past hour. One incredibly long and boring hour. Luffy has never claimed to be the best at sitting still for lengthy amounts of time, and the alternative to watching a movie he's seen a million times seems obvious.

After utilizing his creativity, the six Sharpies he'd plucked from between the couch cushions, and the part of his brain that tells him it's a damn good idea, Luffy has made Usopp's face look like a nightmare. Revenge is sweet.

But then the call from Zoro comes, and he's anything but bored. Hell, Luffy's bouncing on the balls of his feet and grinning so wide his face threatens to split in half. He doesn't even care why Zoro has suddenly decided to make an effort to be his friend. At least that's _actually_ happening.

He puts a hand on Usopp's shoulder, ready to shake him into consciousness. One look at his friend’s face, though, and he pulls it back. Usopp will be angry when he wakes up. (Even though it's his own fault because _he_ made Luffy bored.) Dealing with a cranky Usopp isn't something he wants to do. Or something Zoro wants to do, he guesses.

Luffy nods to himself and snatches the keys to Merry off of the counter. He inches the door shut behind him, inhaling a deep breath of fresh air as he pulls himself into Merry's front seat. He rolls down every single window he possibly can, just because. His whoop echoes in the empty street as he swerves to miss the pot-hole Usopp always hits. Crisis averted, he watches the house shrink in the rear-view mirror, smile doing the same as his thoughts turn back to Zoro.

Maybe he'd lied to himself a little earlier; he does care about Zoro's reason for calling him. He cares a lot and he wants to know why Zoro had sounded so… tired. And anxious. Luffy had been too caught up in his excitement to question it.

He isn't going to have to wait long to ask, already turning onto Zoro's street. He parks along the curb and digs his cellphone out of his pocket to call as he'd promised.

 _"Hey,"_ Zoro's voice sounds from the other end. _"Are you outside?"_

Luffy nods, then remembers Zoro can't see him and says, "Yeah, come on out when you're ready. You packed, right?"

_"Yeah, but I didn't know how long we were gonna be on the road."_

"Oh," he blinks as he answers, humming in thought, "probably around two months."

Zoro stays silent long enough to worry him until he shouts, _"WHAT?!"_ into the receiver and almost blows Luffy's eardrums out.

"Ow," he groans, "Zoro's too loud."

 _"Two months? Two fucking_ **_months_** _?"_

"Er… yeah. I could be wrong, but still. Two months, so what?"

There's static as Zoro exhales _. "Nothing. Forget it, everything's fine. See you outside."_

It sure doesn't _sound_ fine to Luffy, but he only mutters, "Okay," and lets it be.

He waits a few minutes before Zoro comes out of the house, a bulging duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Zoro goes to pull the door closed and Luffy jumps, startled when a half-naked woman flings herself out of it at the last possible moment.

She clings to Zoro, arms trapping him on all sides, and mascara streaks down her cheeks as she sobs. Zoro's body goes rigid, terror writ in every line of his face. Luffy wants to jump out of the van, but he’s as frozen to his spot as Zoro seems to be.

"You can't go!" the unnamed woman shrieks, groping anywhere she can reach. "I won't let you leave me!"

Zoro mutters something Luffy can’t hear but it causes her to sob harder. 

She switches tactics and grasps his arm, trying very inefficiently to tug him back through the open door. “Come on. Come back inside, we’ll sort it out.” She pauses, brain reworking until she nods to herself. “I’ll— I’ll sort you out, okay?”

Luffy doesn't know who this woman is. Maybe Zoro's girlfriend, he speculates, judging by the possessive way she clings and hangs off of him. He does know he's gawking at her like a zoo animal.

He can't help it. She's putting on quite a show for anyone who happens to be looking. The woman notices his staring, too. She very pointedly flips him off, a snarl scrunching up her face in a manner that resembles a bulldog. Granted, bulldogs are much cuter.

After shouting a few choice curses Luffy doesn't even bat an eye at, she fixes her attention on Zoro again. She’s not sobbing anymore. Her eyebrows furrow to become a very unfortunately ugly caterpillar.

Luffy has never seen a more repulsed frown on anyone but his grandfather when they’re talking about his grades. It grates on his nerves, makes him grind his teeth and his hands curl into fists. She's directing that disgust towards _Zoro._ He hasn’t done anything to earn a look like that. 

"Leave me the fuck alone, Alvida!" Zoro growls, yanking free of her grasp. "I'm taking a vacation from your twisted ideas of fun or discipline or whatever the hell you think it is!"

He seems thunderstruck by his own words, so much he even takes a physical step back. Luffy cheers silently. He doesn't like this 'Alvida' lady. Not at all. And he wants to get out of Merry, but something in the back of his mind nags him into staying where he is. 

Zoro can take care of himself. He’s heard the stories. As faulty as most rumors are, he’s seen the truth of that part with his own eyes. Zoro was— _is_ — so damn cool, standing up to those assholes. Sue him for wanting to see that side of him again; he’s curious in the most morbid way.

Curiosity is a bitch, Luffy decides, and Karma is her loyal sister.

Because the next thing he knows, Alvida's hand is raised in the air, and she’s more spiteful than ever as she shouts, "Don't be disrespectful, you ungrateful little shit! I _own_ you, got it? You're not going anywhere— never, ever!”

She slaps him. Twice in a row, she slaps him, like punctuation to her statement, and something in Luffy’s heart shatters when Zoro hardly even flinches. There’s nothing. None of the fire Luffy’s seen when he confronts people at school. He just— _takes it_ with a blank face. He almost seems _used_ to it, and that is so wrong on so many levels Luffy's out of Merry in about a second. 

He hates her. 

God, but he fucking _hates_ this woman. He can’t remember if he’s ever hated someone so intensely within moments of meeting them before. He’s always furious when people start shit with his friends, but there’s something worse about seeing the fight go out of someone like Zoro. About someone so strong and confident being made to look so small in _seconds_ that just— 

Luffy stomps toward them, counting to ten and then _well_ past that, as she fists the front of Zoro’s shirt. She winds back for another swing. 

He holds Alvida's wrist in place, grip firm, before she can bring her hand down again. 

“Let go of Zoro,” he says, voice a low warning he hopes she heeds. He doesn’t know how much longer he can obey his internal chant of _don’t punch her, don’t punch her, don’t—_

Luffy counts to ten again, mind whirling down two or more different paths as usual. He’s trying to find the correct one here, but he’s already fifty steps ahead thinking about sleepovers and going to the beach and the stress sloughing from all his friends’ faces when they’re out of this goddamn town and about what it means to be _Zoro’s_ friend and— 

Friends protect each other. 

He wants to snap her wrist, break it in half like a pathetic twig, but he'd rather not be arrested tonight. Or suffer the standard You Can't Just Break That Person's Bone Because They Excel at Being an Asshole lecture from his grandfather. He can recite it by heart as it is.

“Who the hell—” She scowls harder. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

"You're a shitty person," Luffy tells her, tone factual, and that seems to disturb her enough to make her freeze. He releases her wrist and makes a show of wiping his hand off on his shorts like he's touched something repulsive. "We're leaving now. _Let go of him."_

She does, though it seems more like her hold slackens enough in shock for the slightest movement to dislodge it. 

Zoro looks gobsmacked.

His expression tilts Luffy’s world off its axis for a second, because it is nothing short of complete disbelief. It hurts. His chest aches with how surprised he is that Luffy— that he what? Didn’t just stand there and let her keep hitting him? 

He smiles through it, knows he has to for Zoro’s sake, and maybe his own because he can’t wonder how many times no one has been there to stop her. He _can’t._ It’s likely a number high enough to make him turn around and scream at this woman until he’s blue in the face.

Luffy slams a lid on those thoughts and pushes a finger under Zoro’s chin to close his gaping mouth. "C'mon! Usopp's waiting for us at home, the lazy bastard. I couldn't get him up."

Zoro stares at him like he's an alien, then glances at Alvida once and nods. "Okay, let's go."

And they do, peacefully, until Alvida starts running that mouth of hers again.

"Oh, _alright_ , I get it now!" she spits, and for the first time, Luffy notices the slur in her voice. She's been drunk this entire time, but that's no excuse, and not one he will _ever_ accept. "Gonna go be someone else's bitch for the weekend, right? Fine, forget about it. Forget about _everything_ I’ve fucking done for you! I won’t be sitting on my ass waiting when he gets sick of your bullshit and you come crawling back!”

She continues yelling about ungrateful whores and how she never wants to see Zoro's face again, but it's background noise to Luffy. He stopped listening to her, retaining anything she says, the second she slapped his friend. 

Zoro's head droops lower and lower with every word, though, and he doesn't retort in any way. Not like he did when Sanji got on his case. When _anyone_ gets on his case. Luffy frowns.

In a split-second decision, he reaches out and interlocks their fingers. He squeezes Zoro's hand for good measure and hopes he's not making anything worse by doing this. But he thinks he sees Zoro sneak a smile, so he keeps walking without a word.

When they reach Merry, Luffy doesn't bother to let go of his hand. He opens the passenger door while he tugs Zoro in behind him. There's nothing between the two seats like in a normal car anyway. He can get to the driver's seat no matter where he enters, and he's going to make full use of this aspect of Merry's interior.

They let go eventually, though, because Luffy needs to start the van. And because Zoro decides now is a terrific time to balance his elbows on his thighs, slap his hands over his face, and not budge for the next minute or so. The silence is uncomfortable, but just as Luffy reaches out to turn some music on, Zoro grunts.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbles. His voice is so quiet Luffy almost thinks he imagined it until he speaks again, louder this time. "I can't believe you had to deal with that _._ Like, shit, we _just met._ I knew I should've crawled out the window and it would've been fine. I'm so fucking sorry."

Luffy shakes his head, glancing at Zoro out of the corner of his eye. At least he's moved. Only to dig the heels of his palms into his eyes, and he might be shaking, but still. It's progress from the radio silence and statue impersonation from earlier.

"You don't have to apologize. She was the one who was making it difficult."

"I know," Zoro sighs. He stops abusing his eyes and turns towards him. "I just— I feel like I need to, alright? Maybe on her behalf or something, even though she wouldn't apologize if you tortured her."

Luffy grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. "Zoro, she _hit_ you. _Twice_. That's not okay, and it makes me really mad."

Zoro's throat bobs with a swallow as he fidgets with the hem of his shirt. "That's just how it is. I can't explain why she—" his voice breaks and he leaves the sentence hanging. "Look, can we drop it? At least for now?"

"Fine, we'll drop it for now," Luffy grudgingly concedes at Zoro's pleading eyes. "But—" he stops, wondering if he should even ask.

"But what?" 

"But…" Luffy pauses to wrinkle his nose a little. He’s not sure exactly why, but he hopes more than anything the answer won't be what he'd been thinking earlier. "Who was she?"

Zoro breathes out very slowly, casting his gaze anywhere but at Luffy. "That was Alvida, my foster mother."

Luffy chokes on his own tongue. He wouldn't have seen that one coming if it had sprouted four arms, held a neon sign above its head, and did the Macarena two feet in front of him. _In a speedo._ He must have one hell of an expression on his face because Zoro actually laughs. Luffy's never heard the sound before, and it's kind of loud and ridiculous. He even _snorts,_ but it still lights up the entire van in a matter of seconds.

"Luffy, I know she's a basket case and not fit to raise anything but the percentage of alcohol in her body."

He gives a nervous laugh. "How long have you lived with her?"

"About nine years. It's sort of been an ongoing train-wreck," Zoro explains wearily. He cards his fingers through his hair as he sighs again and looks out the window.

The sight makes Luffy's mouth go dry. Stupid Zoro and his stupid habit of doing stupid things that make him squirm. "Yeah?" he prompts, trying to distract _himself_ more than anything. 

He doesn’t know what’s happening to him. Why Zoro is— so _Zoro_ to him. He’s never— 

"Yeah," Zoro confirms, clipping off his thought process, "and what you saw wasn't even the worst of it."

He laughs, a derisive sound Luffy likes much less than the happy version, but then Zoro freezes. Like he's said something so incriminating it should be locked in a box and buried six feet. 

Luffy isn't going to pry. Zoro will tell him when he feels comfortable enough to, which probably isn't now. He looks ready to jump out of his skin, launch his then skinless self out the window, and scream with joy as he gets flattened by a mechanical sheep going sixty.

He whistles. "Now I'm the one who's sorry."

Zoro’s shoulders slump back down. "Thanks, it's nice to know someone actually gives a shit."

He can't tell if he’s joking or not, so he only hums in response. The silence creeps back in again and Luffy doesn't remember the drive home being this long before.

"What do you want to do once we get to my house?" 

"I dunno," Zoro answers helpfully.

Luffy doesn't mind working off the response, though. He only grins, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "We could make s'mores."

Zoro does a double-take. "You're not serious. _S'mores ?"_

Luffy tilts his head to the side, shooting an equally perplexed look at him. His suggestion isn’t even _that_ weird. "Why wouldn't I be serious?"

"Well…" Zoro furrows his brow. "Do you even have a fireplace? Or, like, a bonfire pit?"

"Nope."

"Oh my god, you're trying to burn your house down." Zoro rubs at his temples as though he feels a headache coming on.

"Nah," Luffy denies, waving a dismissive hand. "I have a Bunsen burner I stole from the school's science lab a while back. The teachers had fun trying to figure out who did it. And now that you mention it, I could still set the house on fire… if I'm lucky."

Zoro's mouth falls open. "Okay, back up... You _stole_ a Bunsen burner? You smuggled a low-key flamethrower from a high school classroom without getting caught?"

He shrugs. "I had help. It was Ace's idea, not mine."

"And who's Ace?"

"My older brother!" Luffy bounces on Merry's leather seat. He stops when the van races forward at the extra punch of gas. "Ace is the coolest, even if he _is_ obsessed with setting most things on fire. I mean, you’re cool, but Ace is a _little_ bit cooler."

Zoro huffs. "Should I be offended?"

"I wonder if you two would get along…" Luffy grins. The two coolest people probably _ever_ and now he gets to talk to both of them _at the same time._ "Well, I guess we'll find out soon. He's at home, and coming on the road trip because granddad wouldn't let me go otherwise."

He crosses his arms over his chest. "So we're being chaperoned?"

Luffy makes a noise somewhere between agreeing and disagreeing. If anything, _Nami’s_ the chaperone, but he doesn’t see why that’s a bad thing. Since Zoro’s never roasted marshmallows with a Bunsen burner, he must not know how awesome Nami is either.

"Not _really_. Like I said, Ace is cool. And he has an _actual_ flamethrower, so if the Bunsen burner fails, we always have that!” 

Zoro shakes his head in disbelief. Luffy pouts. God, he has _got_ to get him to have some _fun._ Like that time Usopp almost died when they found the steepest hill possible and grabbed a tire _just_ big enough to fit someone inside and—

"We're here!" Luffy announces as they slot Merry into the driveway. "Come on, come on, c'mon!" Luffy grabs Zoro's hand again and drags him out the driver's door.

"Slow down!" his green-haired hostage complains, but he doesn't let go. 

Luffy knows he easily can. And that’s why, excited though he is, he obeys and falls into step with Zoro, swinging their joined hands as much as he dares to.

"I left Usopp passed out on the couch. He might be up by now, and if he is, he'll be angry."

"Why?"

"He can't take a joke."

Luffy pushes the door open, cautious, and leads Zoro in behind him once deeming it safe. He blinks, entering the kitchen completely. The only sound he can hear is the movie's title screen looping from the living room.

"Huh," Luffy says, relaxing his tense shoulders, "I think he's still—"

And then a blur tackles him to the fucking ground.

Luffy manages to scramble to his feet again, but fingers wrap around his shirt collar and yank him back. Luffy grapples at Zoro in an effort to not fall a second time. 

"What are you— oh, fuck!" Zoro curses, and they both go down in a heap of limbs.

Luffy yelps, narrowly avoiding biting his tongue in half when he slams the back of his head on the tile. And holy _shit,_ did his skull crack open? Probably not. Still, the coppery taste in his mouth indicates he missed his tongue and caught the inside of his cheek instead.

 _Ew,_ he thinks as he pokes the sore, bleeding spot with his tongue, _it's throbbing. But it's supposed to throb, right? And also, **OW**._

At least Zoro lands safely. Luffy's conveniently placed body cushions his fall. Sure, it knocks the air out of him and, yeah, he feels like he can't breathe for a few terrifying seconds, but it’s all pretty okay.

Because Zoro's cheeks are fire-engine red, and he's so close Luffy can pinpoint the lightest flecks of color in his eyes. And _wow,_ now he knows for sure that they’re a sleek, silvery _gray._ It's a bit insane how much Luffy loves it. Silver is his new favorite color. On the whole, Zoro's face is his new favorite face, if he ever had one of those before now. 

“Aesthetic,” Luffy mumbles airily.

"Usopp, you goddamn _idiot!”_ Zoro growls from above him, and a shiver goes through Luffy at the feel of it.

Is it weird to want to be squished even more? He’s so _warm—_

"Zoro?!" Usopp’s voice reaches ear-splitting octaves, alarmed to see they have a new guest. And a seething guest, at that. "Don't hurt me! It's Luffy's fault. He took Merry without asking and he promised me—"

"Doesn't matter, I'm still going to kill you for body-slamming him," Zoro deadpans.

He pushes himself up, only to hiss in pain and press a hand to his chest as he mutters a slew of curse words. Luffy narrows his eyes. _Suspicious_ … but he'll ask later. If he even remembers to, that is. Rid of the pressure on his torso, he immediately sucks air into his lungs with a great gasp. Warm, yes, but also heavy, so maybe Zoro not crushing him is for the best.

"I'm alive!" he wheezes, raising his arms in triumph before they drop to the floor like dead weight.

Zoro shatters the semi-calm atmosphere when he bursts out in hysterical laughter. The other two teenagers blink and exchange confused looks. Zoro stamps his feet and clutches at his stomach with one arm as he points wildly at Usopp.

"Your _f-face!_ You’re a— painted whore!" he gasps, before snorting and doubling over. "Luffy, you are the _best_."

"Yay, Zoro thinks I'm cool!" Luffy barely even knows why. Right now he's seeing colors that (most likely) don't exist. He cackles along with Zoro from his place on the tile anyhow.

Usopp pats wildly at his face. "A painted whore? What does that even—"

And then — ah, yes, there it is. The comical look that indicates a harsh slap of realization. Luffy _lives_ for that face when he pulls pranks on people. Specifically Usopp, though.

"Mirror. _I need a mirror!”_ Usopp flails his arms as he zips down the hallway.

Zoro only laughs harder. Luffy pulses up off the floor, twitching like invisible strings are pulling at him from the ceiling. It'd be a lot easier to use his words like a normal human being, but he’s pretty sure all that would come out is _Zoro’s so strong, I like his hands, I bet he could lift four of me and I really want him to try._ And normally people don’t like it when he loses what little filter he possesses and says stuff like that. So Luffy waits and continues wiggling. It’s a necessary process to achieve the best end results. Science!

If he could apply Zoro-theory to actual school-science, maybe he wouldn’t be failing. His hypothesis checks out. 

Eons later, after Luffy stares long enough, Zoro gets the hint and—

“Whoa!”

—sweeps him up into his arms with practiced ease. His heart jack-rabbits away, out of surprise and also something to do with the line of Zoro’s body pressed against his again. This was not the end-goal. This is _better._

They blink at each other, faces inches apart, and Zoro goes crimson again, panic streaking through his expression. Luffy yelps as the arms cradling him give out, pain lancing up through his tailbone as he hits the floor. 

"Shit! Sorry.” Zoro grabs him by the arm this time, hoisting him to his feet. 

He opens his mouth — to needlessly apologize again, Luffy guesses — but he's cut off by a shrill scream from the back of the house. 

“Is it me or was that super fucking delayed?” 

Luffy shrugs. “He’ll live.” 

They don't move for the next few minutes, only communicating through eyebrow movement. Their eyes remain trained on the hallway to see what Usopp does next.

Usopp comes marching into the kitchen, his face clean of the markings but puffy, red and splotchy. All the while, he mutters, "Murder is illegal, Usopp. Illegal, illegal, illegal…"

He sits down somberly at the table, looking for all the world like his goldfish died. That would be a shame. Luffy rather likes Sea King the Suspiciously Large Goldfish. He also thinks said scaly pet _might_ eat his tank-mates, but he still likes him, cannibalistic tendencies or no.

* * *

Zoro stares perplexedly at Luffy, only catching certain mumbled words.

"...goldfish... dead... Sea King... cannibalism..."

It's enough to make him question the other's sanity. Then again, he'd never lumped Luffy into the 'sane' category in the first place, especially considering he actually seems to like Zoro. And what an odd thought _that_ one is with what a freak he is and what Luffy saw of his home-life earlier. Not that Luffy is exactly a front-runner for ‘world’s least-freaky teen’, but still. 

And it's not like Zoro has self-confidence issues, either (really, seriously, he _does not have them_...), but he's pretty caustic. And when he isn't caustic he's silent. And when he isn't either of those, he's prone to outbursts of violence or just overall freaking the fuck out. The list of reasons why he shouldn't even be approached is longer than he is tall and written in, like, six-point font.

"Hey, Zoro," Luffy's voice pulls him out of his thoughts, “you gave me an idea."

He blinks. "I... I didn't even do anything."

Did he? He doesn't think so. As far as Zoro knows, he's only crushed the boy in front of him with his entire body and then dropped him right on his ass in a grand total of five minutes. Not exactly a new personal record of fuck-ups, but he'll count it with the best of them since this is his first friend in a long time and he's already managed to be so... like himself. He's on a roll tonight.

Luffy hums. "Well, you did and you didn't, but the point is... eh, you'll see."

Zoro watches curiously as Luffy pulls his phone out of his pocket, dialing a number.

"Robin! Come over. Like, right now. And tell all the others. We’re gonna leave on the trip tomorrow because we can and I said so."

"..."

"Okay, so if Chopper's already with you, call Nami and have her tell Sanji because he's whipped and can't say no."

"..."

"I know, I know, I didn't forget him. Sanji's going to want to take vengeance for being dragged here so late. He'll text Franky to make sure he suffers, too."

"..."

"Don't act so surprised! I _can_ plan stuff when and if I really want to!"

"..."

"Yes! Okay, bye, Robin!" He hangs up and skips— actually _skips_ — over to Usopp.

"Usopp," he pokes him vigorously on the neck. "Get up."

"No."

" _Movie Night_ ," Luffy deadpans.

Usopp is up and ravaging through the cabinets before he even says another word.

"You bastard, you've exploited my weakness," Usopp grumbles. He grabs box after box of random snack, bag after bag of chips, zipping in and out of the living room.

Zoro's kind of stunned. Are they really expecting so many people over this late?

But sure enough, an indistinguishable amount of time later (because he's too fucking busy watching the chaos of Luffy and Usopp running around to be aware of the existence of time), a knock sounds at the door. 

Zoro's embarrassed to say he's spent at least half that time boomeranging his gaze between the tile and Luffy. He fails epically at being inconspicuous. It might be his imagination, but when he glances up again, he sees Luffy's eyes ping off of him before they return to his phone.

Usopp seems too preoccupied with scouring the cabinets for worthy species of junk food. Luffy isn't making any move to let their newly arrived and still locked out guests in, either. He's grinning idiotically at his phone. 

Zoro sighs. It's not even his house.

He swings open the door to reveal Robin, shouldering a fair-sized bag. Chopper stands beside her with his own stuff, until he sees it's Zoro greeting them. He edges behind Robin instead. Zoro will give him points for subtlety. Had he not been watching these new people so carefully, he wouldn't have noticed. 

"Hello, Zoro." Robin smiles that tiny smile of hers. "May we come in?"

"I— um, yeah." He awkwardly steps out of the way and allows them to pass, unused to Robin's polite manner of speech. Nobody's ever talked to Zoro like that before. Most people don’t bother talking to him at all.

Robin goes to shut the door behind her when a familiar voice calls out, "Hey, wait!"

Nami's figure crashes through the doorway like the rough ocean she’s named after, with none of Robin's politeness. She nods at Zoro after she greets Robin, and then ushers the quieter girl toward the living room with Chopper in tow, already chattering away. A more suitable name might have been _Tsu_ nami, what with the force of her personality sweeping others before her. And fuck, he needs sleep at some point soon if he’s already getting philosophical about a girl he just met.

Sanji and Franky come in not too long after. The very first thing Sanji does is send about ten bags of popcorn and two movies skidding across the kitchen table without a single care. Franky hauls three duffle bags with him, which he chucks straight into the living room from the doorway. They land perfectly. Zoro has no idea how he throws them so far with such accuracy, but he wants to learn how to fucking do it.

"Zoro!" Franky exclaims when he finishes his task. "Didn't think I'd be seeing you 'til tomorrow, bro!"

A wide grin stretches Franky's face. He punches Zoro's shoulder hard enough to make him stagger, then hooks an arm around said shoulder. 

He obviously doesn't do it roughly on purpose, and more than likely means for it to be a friendly gesture. Franky is a handsy one, but then so is Luffy. So Zoro allows Franky to loom over him, even though he's internally flipping his shit. _Bro? The fuck does he mean by that? It doesn't even matter, just move the goddamn arm…_

It’s too much. It is _way_ too much tonight, but he doesn’t know how to reject the contact without coming off like an asshole.

"I figured it'd be easier than you guys having to pick me up tomorrow. Luffy was all for it," he says, mouth working automatically. It's only half a lie, and he's impressed he came up with it on the spot.

Sanji rolls his eyes, but the slight tilt to his lips surprises Zoro. "I should've guessed there was a special reason for us being woken up at the ass-crack of dawn. Movie night’s nothing new, but you never know with Luffy's usual antics. He honestly likes you too much..."

"Yep!" Luffy speaks up from where he's leaning against the wall. The kitchen has gotten crowded fast, but half of it is down to Franky's bulk. "I really like Zoro, and there's nothing you can do about it."

Franky's called into the living room by who he thinks is Chopper. And thank fuck for Chopper, because he was about to bolt out of Franky's hold.

Sanji turns to him with a grave expression. "You can't get away once you're on Luffy's radar. It's permanent. Welcome to Hell."

"Thanks. I recognized it when they sent you as the welcoming party."

Sanji rolls his eyes. “Uh-huh. Whatever, Marimo.”

Zoro still bristles at the nickname, but he reminds himself to relax. He doesn't sense much bite behind it anyways. More like... grudging acceptance? Yeah, _right._ And Zoro does the hula on Fridays. 

"Oi, Usopp!" Sanji yells. "Get your ass in here and make this shitty popcorn!"

"You don't get any if you keep insulting it," Usopp says as he enters the room.

"Don't patronize me. I'll hogtie and lock you in the closet before you can even _say_ popcorn." 

"You've just been spending way too much time with Nami, you wouldn't follow through." Usopp's face is brave, but his knees shake in contradiction. He rips open the plastic with his teeth and mumbles unintelligibly. "Luffy, get some bowls out."

Luffy groans dramatically but does as he's told and slams several bowls down on the counter. He smiles as he turns back around and pulls Zoro into the living room by the hand. Sanji raises an amused eyebrow at the exchange. Zoro flips him off, mouthing _shut up._

Sanji holds his hands up in surrender as he grabs the movies. He follows close behind them, snickering at Zoro's red, red face. No way in hell is he _not_ going to tell the others, Zoro realizes with dismay. Fantastic. Let the shaming begin. 

The minute they walk into the living room, Zoro very nearly pivots on his heel and resigns himself to watching Usopp burn the popcorn.

Nami and Robin peer over a cellphone in a corner of the gigantic couch, gushing uncontrollably. Nami's doing most of the gushing, slapping Robin repeatedly in excitement. She wiggles in her seat as she squeals, "They're doing the thing, they're _doing_ _the thing_!"

Robin's answering smirk and chuckle as she scrolls make Zoro shiver.

Franky has plunked on a stool beside the TV and seems to have materialized a guitar out of thin air. “Anyway, here’s _Wonderwall,”_ he exclaims without irony as he begins to strum it out. 

Chopper is the only one who looks even remotely calm, listening to Franky's brash, off-key singing beside Nami. He ducks now and again, trying not to get smacked with her wayward limbs.

Sanji stalks over to him. "Move over," he demands, although not too bitingly. "I want to sit by Nami."

Upon hearing her name, Nami looks up. She narrows her eyes at the blond before switching to Chopper. "Don't move."

Chopper wrings his hands, eyes darting between his two friends. "I— I don't know what you want me to—"

 _"Move,”_ Sanji growls, and somehow directs it more at Nami than Chopper, though he looms over him in the process of leaning toward her.

"Don't fucking move," Nami presses.

Zoro finally understands what Luffy meant about the fighting. Poor Chopper seems to be getting the worst of it. The kid's shoulders cave then abruptly straighten, chest fluttering in quick little pants Zoro only notices because he’s gone still as a statue. 

"What exactly do you think is going to happen?" Sanji scoffs. "That I'm going to hang all over you the entire night?"

"Frankly—”

“Present!” Franky exclaims, either as a joke or a misguided attempt to break the tension.

Nami and Sanji both whirl on him. “SHUT UP!”

Franky throws his hands up in surrender and resumes playing as they flawlessly continue. Robin rolls her eyes at the lot of them from her corner of the couch.

“Yes, Sanji, that's exactly what I think."

"Don't be such a—”

"Finish that sentence, I dare you."

Sanji falters, seemingly taken aback by his own words, but then he steels himself and plows onward. “A big, whopping, b—”

“Oh, for fuck's sake. Make it easier on Chopper and let the idiot sit by you! Or give up and leave her alone, Curly!”

All the heads in the room swivel to stare at Zoro. The guitar chokes on its last-played note. Usopp's bush of hair even pops into view from the entryway. Zoro goes rigid. He hadn't meant to say anything. He hadn't meant to lash out. But he'd recognized the look on Chopper's face amid the arguing. The one that indicates a full-scale meltdown ready to spill all over everything.

"I mean, it's not exactly fair. To Chopper," he weakly justifies, sounding nothing like himself.

He holds his breath, waiting to be kicked out. Or screamed at for voicing his unwanted opinion. Or smacked in a non-friendly way. Or maybe— 

Nami sighs. "Zoro's right."

He blinks owlishly. Well, _that's_ a new fucking concept.

She turns to Chopper, who's still watching him with wide, disbelieving eyes. "It's okay. Go ahead and let Sanji sit there."

Chopper nods. He glances at Zoro one more time, then quickly moves over. "Okay."

Abruptly, Nami huffs, pouting. “Hold on, just let me—”

Nami sinks even further into Robin’s side, wrinkling her nose in discomfort and arching forward as her back digs into bone. Robin’s lips twitch. She drapes her arm across the back of the couch without even looking up from her phone, and Nami sighs, face smoothing out. She pulls the limb across her shoulders not two seconds later, eyes fixed back on the phone screen. 

Readjustment over, Sanji finally sits down and Zoro finally dares to breathe again.

Luffy grins at him. "Zoro's so cool."

"That wasn't cool at all," he protests, cheeks starting to color again. 

He's been holding (possibly _strangling_ ) Luffy's hand this entire time, he realizes. He doesn't know how to let go. Is there a protocol for this kind of thing? He'd really like to know before he passes out.

"I— um, I thought it was cool," a different voice trickles into their conversation. "Thank you for making them stop… I don't exactly deal well with conflict. "

It's Chopper, all 5-foot-something of him, a sheepish grin on his face as he stares up at Zoro. And what a change it is, to not have the kid look at him like he's going to eat him alive.

"You don't need to thank me." Zoro scratches at the back of his neck. "That was nothing."

Chopper frowns. "Maybe not to you, but it was something to me. Nobody even tries to stop those two anymore. We’re all too used to it."

Luffy gives him a look Zoro reads as _accept the fucking appreciation._

"Okay," he says. Luffy inclines his head and rolls his arms in a 'continue' motion. "You're… welcome."

Chopper beams at him before he leaves to reclaim his fought-for spot on the couch. Luffy gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Zoro lets another one of his opinions slip out in response: "God, you are such a fucking dork."

Thankfully, it doesn't sound harsh — _fond_ if anything. 

Luffy laughs and playfully retorts with, "And _Zoro_ is so fucking cool," because he _will not_ _let it go_.

"Sure, whatever," he reluctantly concedes, for the sole purpose of _forcing_ Luffy to let it go. He swallows nervously. If Chopper doesn't know how to deal with conflict, then Zoro can't handle thank you's or compliments.

"Alright, who's burning shit without me? Can't you wake a guy up before you try to steal his hobby?" a groggy voice asks from the hallway.

Zoro turns to look at their new disturber and sees way more skin than he expects. A shirtless man with shoulder-length black hair and a smattering of freckles along his nose and cheeks emerges from the hallway. ‘Burning shit’. This must be the infamous cool hot man Luffy was telling him about. 

The nameless man's eyes widen a fraction. "Is it Usopp again? That little—" He bolts into the kitchen. "Usopp! You fucker!"

"A-Ace! Ha… I thought you were sleeping."

Zoro has never heard a voice so full of fear in his life and, confirmed, this is the elusive older brother Luffy told him about on the ride over. The pyromaniac.

Ace laughs sarcastically and talks in a tight, cheery voice. A laugh tinged with murder and a voice promising pain. "Well, you know me! The smell of burnt anything would be enough to wake me from the dead, especially _burnt_ _popcorn_. Now, that one isn't quite as enjoyable as most."

"I'm almost done, you know!" There's a brief silence until Usopp squeals for an unknown reason. "I'm also just… going to stand here. In front of the knives."

"Buddy, I don't need a knife. Give me two seconds with a lighter and you'll be bawling like a two-year-old."

"H-hah! I wouldn't cry over some singed—"

"Stay the fuck away from cooking unless you think Merry would look pretty melted beyond recognition."

"You are Satan."

Ace laughs evilly just to spite him. "His son, actually, but I can't wait to run the Hell."

“The Hell?”

“Yes.”

“The?”

“The.”

And with that, Ace comes sauntering back into the living room, a proud smirk overtaking his face. His eyes land on Zoro.

"Well, you're new," he says, then raises a curious eyebrow after he glances down, _"and_ holding hands with my little brother."

Zoro makes a noise akin to a dying bear. 

His face is burning but he still won't let go of Luffy even after _that_. Goddamn. He really _,_ _really_ doesn't think he knows how to at this point. That's it. They'll have to cut off his hand with a rusty spoon. It will be a slow, painful process, but he thinks he kind of deserves it. Zoro imitates more dying wildlife. Ace stares at him like he actually is, only made weirder with green fur.

Luffy snickers. "Isn't he funny, Ace? This is Zoro!"

Ace's expression immediately melts into a soft smile once Luffy speaks.

“Sure, Luff." He holds out a hand toward Zoro, purposefully the opposite of the one preoccupied with Luffy's. "Nice to meet you. I'm Portgas D. Ace."

He takes the offered hand and gives it a shake, refraining from raising an eyebrow at Ace's sudden politeness. "I know. Luffy talks about you like you're a saint."

Ace throws his head back and laughs. He ruffles Luffy's hair, leaving the black strands sticking up when he pulls away. "What can I say? He's a pretty great little bro, so I have to be even better or equally as good for him."

Zoro smiles. He likes the sound of that.

"Alright, everyone, stop bullshitting and sit down!" Sanji shouts. "Time for a horror movie."

Luffy flings himself at the couch, finally wrenching his hand out of Zoro's in the process. They all squish onto the couch. Zoro winds up with Chopper sitting half-way on his lap, and Luffy claiming the spot to his left. Franky keeps his stool and moves it to face the TV. Usopp somehow convinces Ace to sit on the floor. 

"Fuck you," Ace says, obviously not happy about it even as he leans back against his little brother's knees.

A massive display of junk food covers every inch of the coffee table. Usopp reveals the giant trash bag beside their impending heart-attack to be the popcorn. Apparently, there weren't enough bowls to hold it all. Several bowls are stacked in front of the bag, though. Zoro guesses they'll be scooping it out at their leisure. Usopp screams "DIBS!" and goes straight for it.

"Fuck yeah, horror movie!" Luffy stamps his feet in excitement, jostling Ace, who sends a sharp glare over his shoulder. Luffy immediately stills his legs, snickering as his brother rolls his eyes. "Which one, Sanji?"

_"The Ring."_

Luffy cheers. Nami groans. Robin shrugs. Chopper squeaks. Ace sighs. Franky falls off his stool and breaks a vase with a shout of 'super!' Usopp lies loudly about not being scared. Zoro frowns; he's never seen or heard of this movie.

"What's _The Ring?"_

Luffy grips the cushion of the couch, aghast. "You don't know what _The Ring_ is?!"

Now he wishes he hadn't said anything. "Well, I just — it's just that...” Great, they’re all staring at him. “Look, Alvida never rented many movies."

Luffy flares his nostrils as he pouts, arms crossed. "I like her less and less the more you talk about her. But whatever, that means your first experience will be watching it with friends!"

Zoro quirks an eyebrow. "You know, you have a talent for making the best out of things."

Luffy grins. "Someone has to, right?"

"Right," Sanji butts in. "You're pure fucking sunshine, now stop flirting."

"How rude."

"Don't ' _how rude'_ me, this isn't Full House. The movie's starting."

They glance toward the TV.

"Oh."

Luffy shudders with anticipation. He shoves Zoro with his shoulder more times than he can count when he begins shifting from side to side. Ace has long moved to the side, lest he get kicked throughout the entire movie.

Zoro scowls and slings an arm over Luffy's shoulders to still the motion. "Quit fidgeting!"

Luffy blushes bright red, eyes wide like he’s been caught committing a crime for reasons Zoro can’t discern from only his expression. He blushes, too, as a consequence, and removes his arm feeling like he should've just _told_ Luffy to stop. 

Before either of them can think what to say, Sanji jumps up from his seat. He starts emphatically cursing at the TV as if the object has tried to woo Nami right in front of him.

Said girl rubs at her temples and thumps her head onto Robin’s collarbone. "Sit _down_ , Sanji. We just won't watch it."

Luffy and Zoro exchange puzzled looks and turn toward the TV. They see the problem right away: the movie keeps freezing, almost on every frame.

"You goddamned piece of shit, rejecting our movie!" Sanji snarls at the DVD player. "I’m so tired of this damn thing freezing every week. Your sole fucking _purpose_ is to _play_ _movies!"_

Zoro barely resists laughing, not bothering to suggest it’s the disk rather than the player. And he's glad he doesn’t laugh. Before anyone can stop him, Sanji lands a few thunderous kicks on the machine with the heel of his expensive, sturdy shoe. Deafening silence descends as they all gawk at the pile of cracked plastic and bent metal that once functioned as the DVD player.

"Well," Ace's calm voice pierces the quiet, "now we really can't watch the movie. At least, not that one."

Usopp struggles not to laugh as he puts a hand to his heart and whispers, “ _Rest in pieces._ ”

Zoro gets the impression he’s been waiting for the perfect moment to say that.

"You…" Nami starts, voice a low hiss and bangs covering her eyes as her fists shake in her lap.

The other teenagers watch with morbid fascination as Sanji's face goes sheet-white.

“Nami—”

She jumps up and whacks him on the back of the head. "YOU ARE A FUCKING _IDIOT!"_

"I'm _sorry,_ okay!" Sanji yells. "Stop hitting me!"

But she doesn't. Zoro's pretty sure she won't for a while, either.

Ace stares longingly at the broken DVD player. "It's useless. Useless means we can take it out back and burn it, right?"

Zoro thinks he would've been set aflame by now if that were true. Maybe he should ask Ace some time. But then Ace would be arrested for murder. _Nah_ , he sighs, _it wouldn't be worth it… unless he's actually_ ** _into_ **_that sort of thing._

Luffy laughs and shakes his head at Ace. "Go for it, but don't let granddad catch you."

"I want in," Robin says, deathly serious.

"As long as it's not my Merry," Usopp mutters.

"Zoro…" Chopper whines, tugging at his sleeve. "Make them stop being stupid."

He glances down at the small teen, who's still practically in his lap despite the two empty seats next to him. 

"Just give it a few minutes," Zoro says, "I'm sure they'll stop soon."

He's right, for the most part. They stop, for a single minute, until Franky speaks up and asks what they're going to do now.

"BURN SHIT!" Ace squeals.

Nami stops strangling Sanji long enough to also kick Ace.

"Or we could grab the DVD player from Ace's room and watch a different movie."

Everyone stares at Luffy like he's grown a second head. And two extra arms. And maybe sprouted a dick from his forehead.

"Oh my god," Nami gasps, "he came up with a good idea."

"And it's not crazy as fuck," Sanji adds in amazement.

Luffy takes it with a grain of salt and grins. "We can roast marshmallows on the table while we watch it."

"Spoke too soon." Nami sighs.

Franky howls with laughter. He also falls off his stool for a second time, consequently landing in the broken ceramic from the vase he smashed before. "I've been impaled!" he screams, even though Zoro can see from here that he’s only pricked his finger.

Chopper sighs, whispering, "I guess Luffy _didn't_ tell Garp to buy plastic vases from now on." He slips off the couch with another sigh and sits down next to Franky's sprawled form, inspecting his hand. "Oh, hush. You're so dramatic."

"Fix me, little doc!" Franky cries, getting to his knees to properly pout at him. His stance widens as Chopper crawls forward to borderline straddle his thigh. "It hurts like a bitch. Cross my heart."

Chopper rolls his eyes and, casual as all hell, sucks Franky's finger into his mouth. The bigger teen snickers, looking like the cat who got the canary. But maybe Chopper's the cat. His top lip pulls back when he bites down, showing teeth with a soft growl. 

"Ouch!" Franky yelps, clutching his wrist, though he's careful not to jostle the boy attached to his finger even in his dramatics. "Fatally adorable!" 

Chopper's teeth dislodge when he snorts. He pitches forward, the function of his limbs lost in shrieking laughter. His forehead knocks against Franky's chest, and the bigger teen grins down at him with fond eyes.

Oh.

Zoro blinks. His cheeks flare with heat and he looks away from the pair, feeling like he's just intruded on something. Thankfully, there's plenty else to pay attention to. 

"We only have one other movie." Nami is still trying to get the conversation back on track. "I'm not digging through Garp's stash after last time."

Question upon question keeps piling up in Zoro’s brain, but he staunchly refuses to ask them. It sounds like something he’d regret coming to know anyway. 

"Hell no! I don't want to get stuck watching—” Sanji cringes _"—that_ movie."

"What do you have against _Titanic?"_ Robin narrows icy blue eyes at Sanji as she slowly reaches into her boot.

 _Knives,_ Zoro remembers with a jolt. _Luffy said she likes knives._

Sanji confirms this with a nervous gulp. "Nothing."

"Good," she states, and her pleased smile is back.

Nami smiles sweetly, too, but the evil intent behind this one is palpable enough to make everyone present shudder.

"That's what you get for flying into a rage and breaking the entire player, _darling_ ,” she mocks melodiously.

Sanji only rolls his eyes. "Of course, _Princess,"_ he uses the nickname sarcastically this time.

Usopp and Robin sigh wearily. Zoro can understand it; they've been dealing with these two a whole lot longer than he has. 

"I'm gonna go get that other player," Ace announces. He casts one last want-filled glance at the smashed machine before disappearing down the hallway.

Luffy gets up, too, and grabs the broken player.

"Usopp," he says, voice grave.

Usopp nearly trips over his own feet as he jumps up and salutes. "Sir!"

Zoro furrows his brow, wondering if this is normal. And judging by the others' generally unperturbed expressions, it is.

"Take this," Luffy thrusts the DVD player into Usopp's hands before he continues his theatrics. "Take this fallen soldier and give her the funeral she deserves."

Usopp gasps. "But, sir! You don't mean—"

"Yes, Usopp, that's exactly what I mean." Luffy looks off into the distance, which consists of a disturbingly close-up portrait Zoro has only just noticed. He doesn't know who the man in the portrait is, but— _what a bushy mustache._

"Your mind won't be swayed?"

"No, it has to be…" Luffy pauses for an unnecessarily long time, "…the neighbor's backyard. That's the only place Ace won't try to steal from."

Usopp nods, solemn, and marches the DVD player outside.

Zoro nearly falls out of his seat, which would be pretty difficult to do considering he's sitting on a couch. But what the fuck?

"Why?" he asks. "Why the neighbor's yard?"

"We don't need the cops called for another fire." Luffy grins. "And because the last time we lost a ball and tried to hop the fence to get it, Ace got shot in the foot."

He feels his mouth drop open. "Really?"

 _"Zo-ro,_ you must like flies," Luffy says, closing his mouth with the same finger as last time. "But yeah, our neighbor's that classic 'get off my lawn!' dude you see in cartoons."

"You don't sound like you mind it." 

Luffy snickers. "Not really, 'cause he's fun to mess with."

"I hate all of you," Sanji groans miserably. He throws an arm over his eyes as he sinks back into the couch.

Nami snorts and crosses her arms. "Good."

Robin frowns. "What did I do?"

Abruptly sitting upright, Sanji seethes, "You were ready to kill me over _Titanic!"_

"At least you wouldn't have died _on_ the Titanic," Franky adds his two cents.

"That is so irrelevant, you shitty sodaholic!” Sanji viciously throws the remote at him. “I wasn't even alive in 19-fucking-12!"

Franky ducks with a laugh, leaving the remote to crash into the wall and chip the paint. Both batteries somehow fall out as it makes contact. The teenagers watch in despair as one of them rolls under the TV set. The gap is barely big enough for it to fit, so there’s no way in hell any of their arms will. 

"You've done it now," Robin murmurs.

Franky shrugs. “I can just move the TV stand again. It’s not even that—”

Literally _everyone’s_ heads snap toward him. “NO!” they all thunder, eyes wide.

Zoro stares beseechingly at them, wanting to ask but fucking _not_ at the same time.

Nami takes pity on him. “He’s a god of destruction to anything that’s not a car or a slab of wood. He’s broken four TV’s.”

"Congratulations?”

Franky throws him a jaunty peace sign, unbothered. 

Zoro shakes it off, asking, “So what? You don't have any spare batteries?" 

Even _Alvida_ keeps them around, and they very obviously don’t have more money than Luffy’s family. The house is pretty fucking big. They can afford to replace a massive TV four times over.

"Not sure. Granddad stopped letting us have access after Ace tried to blow ‘em up so many times," Luffy answers, prompting another _what the fuck_ to echo in Zoro’s mind. He pockets the battery that didn't roll under. "You could try looking through the couch cushions, though. I even found my lost hamster in there once, so maybe you'll find a working battery."

Zoro doesn't get the chance. Chopper has decided to show outstanding bravery by sticking his hand in the abyss of Luffy's couch. He hopes the kid doesn't fall in there or get bitten by whatever the hell could be living inside it.

"Why do you keep destroying things in my house, anyway?" Luffy asks Sanji. "I mean, this happens every time you come over. We have to replace, like, three things a week, or repair something else."

 _Why do you keep letting these people back in when they’re walking disasters who wreck your shit?_ Zoro wants to ask, then backtracks real fucking fast. The gaping hole in his bedroom wall can attest that he, too, is a catastrophe on legs.

Before Sanji can bullshit an answer, Ace returns with the new DVD player. “I almost electrocuted myself,” he calmly explains what took so long, “but at least there would've been some pretty sick sparks, which—”

He gasps, dropping to his knees— and dropping the player. Nami squeals in displeasure and puts her hands out like she can catch it from five feet away.

"Where _is_ it?!" Ace cries, hands pulling at his hair as he stares at the empty space that used to occupy one smashed DVD player. 

It deserves a name, for all the trouble it's giving them. _Possibly Susan._ _But does it really_ ** _look_** _like a Susan?_

"Usopp stole it," Luffy deadpans, throwing Usopp under the bus right as he comes back inside.

"WHERE DID YOU PUT IT?" Ace asks, urgent. He's up like a shot and already fisting the front of Usopp's shirt threateningly.

"Y-your neighbor's b-b-backyard."

"No!" Ace howls, sinking to his knees once more. "How could you? That was a perfectly good burning material!"

He curls into the fetal position and stays that way.

But Usopp, now freed, lunges for the couch and hangs on for dear life. "Mission accomplished, sir," he hisses at Luffy, shaking like a leaf in the wind.

Zoro is about to ask what's with the whole militaristic theme — _sir?_ — but Chopper makes everyone freeze when he shrieks hysterically and yanks his arm out of the couch.

"Get it off, get it off, get it off!" he yells as he violently flails his hand.

Something goes flying, and nobody really knows where it lands. Zoro blinks dazedly in the chaos of it all.

"What the _fuck_ was that?" Sanji asks Chopper, gaze sweeping the floor. 

The others follow his example and begin searching, too.

"L-Lizard," Chopper answers, shuddering. "It latched onto my finger and wouldn't let go."

"Well, the lizard has more credibility than Rose. No room on the board my fucking _ass_. Science says no, sweetheart!" Sanji huffs. A blade whizzes past his head and gets stuck in the wall. "Fuck, you're all insane!"

Zoro gives _Titanic_ a gold star rating for the distress it seems to be causing their resident blond shithead. 

_"Robin,"_ Luffy scolds, forcing her to lower her arm with his hand. "You can't just stab Sanji whenever you want to. If it was that easy, Nami would've done it already."

"But I had a clear shot at his jugular." Robin pouts.

"I know," Luffy says, sympathetic as he pats her on the head. "But focus on the lizard."

And that's when Zoro feels it. Something very alive and very slithery, the telltale prickle of tiny claws.

"Guys," he says, gulping. "I think it's in my hair."

Luffy raises onto his tip-toes and stares, narrow-eyed, into the green of Zoro's hair. "Yep… that's a lizard."

Sanji loses it, falling to the floor with a loud bark of laughter that quickly turns into wheezing. "Oh my fucking _god!_ No wonder we couldn't find it; it blends in with that ball of moss on your head!"

The others huddle around, trying to spot the creature that has begun nesting in Zoro's hair.

"Aw!" coos Nami. "It's so cute! Is it sleeping?"

"It _is_... kind of cute, I guess," Chopper says, cocking his head to the side.

"That's one cool amphibian. Look how calm it is!" Franky raves.

Robin gently reminds him that it's a lizard, which means it’s a _reptile_ , not an amphibian.

"Ha!" Usopp laughs. "Zoro's a lizard tamer. Taming one lizard at a time with his soothing scalp."

Zoro glares at him for that one. He's about to snap a reply before Robin hums and mutters, "It'd certainly be good target practice…"

No one dares to ask what she means by that. He has a pretty good idea already.

Ace pokes him in the head to get his attention. "Do you want us to take the sucker off?"

"No…" Zoro breathes, feeling the lizard shift. "No, just leave it there."

"Are you… sure?" Chopper asks.

"Yeah," he decides with a shrug. "I've never really had a pet before, and this one's tiny enough to hide in my hair. I'm gonna name it Susan."

"Hi, Susan," Luffy greets, already taken with the reptile. Zoro assumes that he pets it because Susan squirms before stilling again.

"Susan?" Nami questions. "What if it's a boy?"

"Fuck gender,” Zoro answers.

"Plus," Ace says, "I don't see any balls."

Chopper smacks him with a pointed frown, but it softens when Ace grins teasingly and ruffles his hair. It’s only then that Zoro notices Ace’s nails are painted a very loud shade of pink.

Sanji rolls his eyes. "That's because, if Susan even _has_ them, they're _inside_ its body, dipshit," he explains like he’s speaking to a duck with brain deficiency. 

“Well, shit. I am so _very_ sorry for offending you by not knowing that,” Ace spits. “I didn't know you were the fucking Lord of the Lizards.”

Robin dares to giggle, and Franky roars with laughter.

Sanji swats angrily at Ace, but he ducks and rolls across the floor with a squawked, “You'll never beat my skillful evasive maneuvers, Black Lungs!”

Sanji looks ready to fucking murder. Nami looks more ecstatic with every passing second.

"Um, okay, that's all fine,” Usopp disregards their antics. "But how can we tell without… well, flaying Susan open? I’m kind of curious about the reptilian world now."

“We’d have to watch some lizards bang. It’s next-level shit. Must be a level-four player to unlock the lizard sex,” Sanji informs them. His face is impressively blank, considering he’d been homicidal a few seconds ago.

Chopper makes a strangled choking noise, horrified. Robin’s mouth stretches into a smile that most likely means she’d be down for that, given the chance.

 _"Fuck. Gender._ Understand?" Zoro repeats defensively. "It's my lizard and I say Susan can be whatever Susan wants. Susan is Susan’s own person… uh, lizard."

Chopper beams at him as he had earlier, leaning into his side with a soft little, “I like you...” that makes Zoro’s brain implode a bit and his insides melt. 

At least until Sanji ruins it with another shout about lizard sex. 

"But now you're going to have to refer to Susan as Susan whenever we talk about Susan," Ace points out, having returned from his leisurely roll across the carpet. His knowing, mischievous smirk says he’s only joking, which makes Zoro snort in mild annoyance.

"Hi, Susan," Luffy speaks to the lizard again. He smiles and reaches forward to pet Susan.

"See," Zoro huffs, ignoring the way his stomach flutters, "Luffy respects Susan."

"HI, SUSAN," the rest of the group choruses, scarily in unison. Except for Usopp, who misses the cue and yell-whispers about two seconds too late.

Zoro blanches, though, because it still has the same effect. "How did you even— okay, never mind, just promise you'll never fucking do that again."

"Fine," Nami says. "But we'll never tell you our secret."

"I don't want to know anyway."

"Great! Now that the lizard's—" Zoro coughs, just to mess with her. Nami rolls her eyes but corrects herself, "Now that _Susan's_ fate has been decided…" She rounds on Chopper. "Did you at least find a battery?"

"No." Chopper frowns. "I'm sorry. I can look again if you want me to."

"If you're feeling lucky and you want to bank on Susan not having a family, sure."

Although visibly more afraid of this new possibility, Chopper nods and thrusts an arm back into the couch. What a truly brave soul.

Luffy reaches out his own arm and grabs Zoro's, making him gasp and jump. Then he gasps and jumps _again_ when Susan's claws dig into his scalp to remain on top of his head _._

"We're going to get the Bunsen-burner!" Luffy announces.

"And you have to drag Zoro with you… why, exactly?" Nami interrogates before they can disappear down the hallway.

Zoro also wants the answer to this question, but he's preoccupied with telling himself to calm the fuck down. Sudden grabbing doesn't agree with him. It's so fucking stupid. Especially since it's only _Luffy._ He doesn't have a valid reason to flinch away from Luffy, and he sure as hell isn’t itching to make a scene.

Sanji, however, rolls his eyes and scoffs, as if the answer is obvious.

If Sanji does know, he doesn’t explicitly say it, only drawls, "Just leave it be, woman."

Nami flushes in anger. "Shut up, moron! I didn’t even ask you!"

Luffy tugs Zoro down the hall before they can hear any more about it. 

"Use protection!" Sanji yells after them. 

Zoro's ignores the comment, glad that Luffy's taken the initiative to drag him away. He doesn't want to listen to _another_ stupid fight, considering the topic this time around.

"I just wanted to show you my room since you've never seen it," Luffy explains without him asking. He lets his arm go when they stop outside the last door down the hall.

Zoro laughs at the simplicity. "Why didn't you tell her that, then?"

Luffy shrugs and twists the knob, pushing inside to flick the light-switch. "Sanji would butt in even if I did. He always does around Nami, so there's no point."

"I don't get those two," Zoro murmurs. "I mean, it seemed like Curly Brow and Miss Devil Heels were getting along fine back at the school."

His eyes wander over everything in the room, but it’s surprisingly bare. 

It's cleaner than he would've imagined for someone so hyperactive, like he doesn’t really _live_ here. There's even a desk with a swivel chair, and the setup makes him wonder what kind of student Luffy is.

Luffy pauses in his search for the elusive Bunsen-burner. "Devil Heels?" he manages to question before dissolving into giggles.

"Y-yeah." Zoro pushes his fingers through his hair out of habit, cheeks flushing for the millionth time. "Sorry. That just sort of… slipped out."

 _"Zoro,"_ Luffy groans in exasperation, "you don't need to apologize. The name fits! But don't actually call her that or she'll kick you again."

"Alright." Zoro finally raises his eyes from the floor. He most definitely doesn’t need any more bruises. 

"And about the other thing," Luffy continues a moment later, digging through a drawer. "I think they've just decided to be frenemies, or maybe Nami did. None of us really know what the hell their problem is. And it's weird because Sanji is always falling all over any girl he sees. He does that with Nami, too, like you saw, but she gets mad.

"So Sanji stopped unless Nami requested it. She became the only exception to his 'Treat All Women Like Goddesses' rule. I think he might count Robin in her own class, too, because they're close friends, but it's still different than with Nami. He’s known her since, like, _forever."_

Zoro furrows his brow. "I guess that makes sense… sort of. It sounds a hell of a lot like that whole 'boys are mean to the girls they crush on' situation. Which is kind of a bullshit thing we’re taught, but still..."

Luffy hums in agreement, distracted by his seeking. Just as Zoro realizes he hasn't helped at all, his gaze happens to skim over the tall, dusty bookshelf in the corner of the room.

"Hey, Luffy," he calls, pointing at the very top of the bookshelf when he has his attention. "Is that it?"

His squinted eyes widen in recognition and he turns to him, nodding. "Yeah, that's it! How did it even get up there? I don't _read."_

Zoro shrugs and they both approach the bookshelf, quickly stumbling across a problem.

No matter how much they stretch, neither of them can reach the Bunsen-burner. Zoro is far more frustrated with this than Luffy. He has a few inches of height on Luffy and he _knows_ he'd be able to grab the damn thing. But he just— _can't_ stretch to his full potential right now. 

The scratches on his chest sting in warning every time he pushes it. He'd rather not stain his shirt, even though prior experience says minor cuts don't bleed too much. The one from the bottle is a bit of a wild card. Either way, Zoro hasn't caused an excess amount of trouble tonight, and he'd love to keep it that way, please and fucking thank you.

"I'm almost there, but it's too damn tall," he grumbles, looking around for something to stand on. His eyes land on the swivel chair before anything else. It'll work, he decides, and rolls it in front of the bookshelf.

"Zoro's _smart,"_ Luffy quips.

"Here, hold it steady," Zoro instructs. He chooses to ignore the compliment and the bogus logic behind it. Grabbing a chair is not _smart,_ it's common sense. Anyone else would have looked around the room and had the same idea.

"No," Luffy suddenly objects, "I'll get it. You hold the chair."

"You… don't have to, you know." 

"But I'm going to." He crosses his arms stubbornly.

Zoro feels his eyebrow twitch in annoyance. But, not keen on arguing over something so ridiculous, he steps away from the chair and gestures toward it. "Fine, go ahead."

Luffy grins and Zoro forgets to be annoyed, placing his hands atop the backrest of the chair. It slides quite a bit under his hands, considering the hardwood floors. He wonders if this is such a bright idea after all. But Luffy forgoes the dangers, stepping onto the unstable chair one foot at a time.

"Can you grab the armrests instead?" 

"Turn around, then."

Luffy follows his instruction, looking down to find Zoro's new pet curled up in its grass-like nest. "Hi, Susan!"

Zoro laughs as he spins the chair and grips the armrests. "Better?"

"Yeah, but scoot… lefter."

"Lefter isn't a word, Luffy."

"Shh, yes it is, Zoro. I promise. Now scoot lefter."

"Whatever, dork." He only rolls his eyes, because maybe Luffy's actually right. 

He feels a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth despite himself as he moves _lefter_.

Luffy faces the bookshelf again, reaching long arms toward the top. Zoro holds his breath as Luffy makes a frustrated noise and shows some faith in the chair — and Zoro's control of it — by raising himself onto his tip-toes.

"I don’t even know what half these books are. Granddad needs to stop trying. But, wow, it's dusty up here," Luffy comments. He pulls his hand off the shelf and rubs his fingers together to rid them of the layer of fuzz they're covered in. "Ew, my bookshelf sheds. Do you think that’s why they call it dust bunnies? Because it makes whatever it touches shed?"

"Well don't touch it like that again if— hey!" Zoro grimaces as a dirty hand swipes across his shoulder. "Dammit, Luffy, don't rub it on _me!"_

"It wouldn't come off." 

He counts to ten in hopes that he won't want to strangle the boy in front of him afterward. "But why am _I_ the solution? Use your own goddamn shirt! I'm wearing _white,_ for fuck's sake."

He scrunches his nose a little. In hindsight, wearing a white shirt over unbandaged wounds was not the best decision. Yet another sloppy move on Zoro’s part since he’s acquired maybe-friends.

"Fine. I'm gonna shut up and grab this thing."

"Oh yeah? That'd be nice."

"Zoro's mean." He pouts. "And he also needs to scoot lefter again."

Zoro jerks the chair to the left with none of the carefulness he used last time, making Luffy squawk and struggle to maintain his balance. 

" _Better?"_ Zoro quips.

Luffy swipes an entire palm of dust onto his shirt as revenge, sending it flying everywhere when he claps afterward, and this time Zoro squawks. "Better."

He supposes they're even now, so he holds the chair and doesn't retaliate. He sort of tries to keep his eyes trained on his own hands, too, since— well, if he looks _up…_

Zoro gulps as his earlier thought comes back to him: _because it's a nice ass_.

There's something seriously fucking wrong with him. Can't he be a normal friend? Or is that asking too much of whoever's responsible for flinging a storm of crap into his daily life? They must have a blast up there, really. It must be entertaining to watch him scratch his head and agonize over everything that's ever happened to him.

They must also enjoy continuity in torment. At the precise moment that he thinks this, dust attacks a pair of nostrils. Luffy's body ceases all movement, his arms stilling as he raises them to grab the Bunsen-burner.

"Luffy?"

"I think I—"

Luffy abruptly stops, and the sneeze he unleashes is explosive. It startles Zoro enough that he releases the chair and steps back on reflex. Luffy goes reeling back, his balance lost to the wobbly piece of furniture. (And, fuck, he _knew_ that this wasn’t a “smart” idea.) He manages to turn around at the last second, probably trying to catch himself with his hands, but it all happens so fast that Zoro can't move out of the way.

He only has enough time to brace for impact before their foreheads bang together. Luffy's hands fist the fabric that (of fucking _course)_ covers his chest for support. Fingers dig in, tearing what's already torn, and Zoro lets out a half-strangled groan. Luffy either doesn't notice or he chalks it up to their collision. 

The swivel-chair hits the shelf with a bang as the force of Luffy's feet sends it zipping backward. Zoro wonders if someone will bother to come see what the hell they're doing. He crosses his fingers that no one actually does. It was embarrassing enough the first time with just Usopp there.

Luffy's forehead drops against Zoro's collarbone for a second. He loosely clutches his shirt as the adrenaline simmers down, chests fluttering against each other with shallow pants. 

"Guess it was Zoro's turn to get squashed," Luffy comments on their reversed positions.

"Yeah, I guess so." 

Luffy lifts his head, unabashedly staring. Zoro stares back, probably giving himself the _worst_ double chin ever. They stare until they're both smothering smiles and choking back laughter. They can't control themselves for long and are soon laughing so hard their faces border on purple. Luffy's head bounces against Zoro's shaking shoulder, paradoxically tense yet boneless in amusement.

"We're such idiots," Luffy gasps between laughs. "We've done that _twice_ in one night."

Zoro only nods, smiling, stupid and giddy-high. He hasn't laughed this hard in _years._

The friction of cotton against his barely-healed scratches hurls him back into reality. Somewhere between reality and the past. He becomes hyper-aware of the weight on top of him— the tightening grip on his clothes. His breath hitches, laughter coming to a screeching halt. 

Pressure and pain. A push and a pull. _Not like that, you're doing it wrong._

Wrong or not, it kaleidoscopes into something straight out of his nightmares. A sultry smirk framed by dingy orange filters into his head, hanging on the edge of his vision. He waits for his arms to be puppeteered above his head. For his wrists to press into the floor, pinned by flesh-and-bone manacles. They aren't metal but they still bite. They still _bruise._

He waits, but it never comes, and that's almost worse. 

He doesn't give the whimper that escapes him permission to do so— he'd _never_ —but it makes the noise stop. 

Laughter, the fading grin tells him. _Luffy's_ laughter. Right. Zoro draws breath in a harsh gasp, doing his best to act less like he’s drowning on land because _that’s right._ This isn’t his house. This isn’t Alvida. He's on the floor, with Luffy, and they were laughing. _Luffy, Luffy, Luffy._

Luffy, who looks as terrified as Zoro felt two seconds ago. 

"Shit. What's—" His voice seems to die in his throat. "Are you okay? Do you want me to get off of you?"

The question acts as a green light for relief to rush forward. Alvida never asks him anything like that. To hell with 'yes' or 'no.' what she wants is the only thing that matters.

"Yes," Zoro chokes out, marveling at the strange fact that he _can_ choose.

He feels such a strong surge of fondness and affection at that moment he _almost_ tugs him back down. Just for the hell of it. The way his stomach flips terrifies him, but it's a different kind of terror from before. It's the kind that Zoro tends to feel when he thinks he's leaving himself too open. 

Luffy moves to get up, having to use his chest as leverage since his hands are sandwiched between them, which Zoro hadn't taken into account. His body instinctively recoils as a yelp, muted by him biting his own tongue, slips out. He wishes he could hit himself since Alvida isn't here to do it for him. He's being _way_ too obvious. 

Just like that, the weight is abruptly gone. That’s jarring in itself because the pain usually doesn’t stop when it’s barely begun. 

Luffy rolls completely off and sits next to him, observing him with a furrowed brow. Zoro resists the urge to squirm, shoot backward and away, as he slowly sits up as well. He waits for Luffy's intense gaze to lift, but it doesn't. Eventually, something changes in his expression, something akin to horror, when his eyes drift a little lower than Zoro's face.

He scrambles to his knees, reaching out his hand but quickly dropping it back to his side. He won't shift his eyes from where they've settled, darting them back and forth across one spot.

"How did that— what did I _do?_ "

Zoro shakes his head in confusion, trying to make sense of Luffy's question. Then he remembers what he's been worried about this entire time. He glances down. "Oh… shit."

Blood. A relatively small amount of it, but blood nonetheless, dotting the front of his white shirt. Fuck. Just— seriously, _fuck_ his life. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to cause trouble.

"Zoro?" Luffy asks when he doesn't further acknowledge the question.

He struggles to remain calm again. He’s pretty sure Luffy worsened the cut from the glass, that’s all. "Yeah?"

"What. Did. I. Do?" Luffy impatiently repeats his question.

Zoro squints at him, confused by his confusion, but— right. Luffy has no knowledge of most of the things Alvida does to him. He doesn't _want_ him to. The other has already seen the bare minimum of a couple slaps to the face, and he'd been angry enough at that. Fuck, if Luffy knew what had happened before Zoro called him…

Even the _thought_ of it makes him want to hurl.

That stupid voice in his head is raising hell and red flags again, with a reminder of what he already knows to be true. A single, inevitable moment will determine the end of this friendship. That moment when Luffy finds out how abhorrent Zoro really is and leaves him in the dust. Game over. Zoro won't bite the killing-bullet to save himself, seeing as he was stupid enough to load the gun and hand it to them in the first place. Stupid enough to think he could be more than Alvida’s worthless plaything.

"Nothing," Zoro answers once he realizes he hasn't yet, looking down at his hands. "You didn't do anything."

Luffy presses on, trying to catch his eye again. "Then why—"

"Seriously," he interrupts, "it's not your fault. Don't worry about it."

He'd pretty much rather throw himself off a bridge than have this conversation. Then again, he'd throw himself off a bridge because it seemed a more pleasant idea than breathing at any given time. In fact, just earlier this afternoon—

"Too late. I'm worrying."

"Then just stop worrying."

Luffy huffs. "Because _that's_ easy when your friend is literally bleeding right in front of you."

"It's not bleeding anymore, and it's not even that much blood!"

"I actually really think you might be an idiot, Zoro."

"Takes one to know one." He scowls and attempts to cross his arms over his chest, but he winces and doesn't complete the action.

Luffy narrows his eyes. "Strip," he demands.

Sirens go off in his brain. "What?"

"You heard me: strip."

Zoro grasps at his shirt protectively, tugging it down. "Hell no!"

"Take your fucking shirt off or so help me god, I will get the scissors and make it so you have to borrow one of mine."

Not that he doesn't already. The others are sure to notice the bloodstains. But they'll also notice him wearing something of Luffy's, which could be taken one of two different ways. He did something or did some _one._

Sanji would choose to take it the latter way, of course. The bastard is already teasing him for the hand-holding. Which— great. Might as well speed along the process of them thinking he’s here because of _that._ His own clothes in his bag are a no-go, as it's in the living room surrounded by a group of nosy teenagers.

"Oh my god— _fine,"_ he grudgingly concedes. "You suck."

Luffy sticks his tongue out at him. "Don't care."

"Of course you don't." Zoro rolls his eyes and moves to pull his shirt off, but Luffy stops him by grabbing one of his wrists. "Did you… change your mind?"

He sounds a little too hopeful, even to his own ears. Luffy seems to ignore that as he answers, "No way," and yanks Zoro off the floor with surprising strength. "We're just not gonna do this, like, _right here._ My bathroom actually has the crap we need."

 _That_ catches Zoro's attention. "You have your own bathroom?"

Luffy nods. 

Stupid and petty as it is, he can't stop himself from feeling a twinge of envy. Having his own bathroom would solve so many problems. Alvida would probably never see him come out of his room ever again. He'd leave through his bedroom window, keep it cracked enough for him to get back inside, and that would be the end of it.

No more forced encounters or apprehension eating away at him. No more picking the easy way out by shutting his mouth and smiling. No more feigning that he is not disgusted with everything about her.

"Sit down over there."

Zoro obeys and plunks himself down on the closed toilet seat without a word. Protesting isn't going to help him at this point. Cooperating _might_ save him from interrogation about where he got the scratches.

Luffy rummages through the cabinets, soon coming up with a small box. The box contains what one would expect to find in a first-aid kit: antiseptic, bandages, gauze, tape. Luffy turns to him and frowns.

"You still need to take off your shirt. I mean, I _do_ have some scissors right here, so if you want me to follow through..."

Zoro makes that ever-so-lovely dying bear noise again and shucks off his shirt in one fluid movement. He ignores the burst of pain when he rips off the few scabs (dried blood?) stuck to it, because _hell no_ , he does not want any more pointy things near his torso at the moment. 

Luffy's staring again. And he's staring at _all_ of Zoro, not just his chest. Like he's trying to burn this unimportant image of him sitting here into his brain. He doesn't break the tension with a dumb comment, and Zoro ends up irritated about the impossibility of mind-reading.

"What happened?" Luffy asks.

It's a simple enough question, but the answer is too heavy for day-one friendship. It’s too heavy for a _lifetime_ of friendship. He's only ever managed to tell one person. And, hell, he _technically_ owned up to nothing. It's still a spot-holder for Most Uncomfortable Experiences. 

"Nothing major," he explains, doing his best to sound bored with their conversation. "It was Alvida's grumpy cat."

Luffy glares at him. "I can't believe you just tried to use the _oldest excuse in the book_ on me!" 

He points at the broad scratches, too far apart to be claw marks, now that Zoro's thought about it some more. The one in the middle is too jagged and deep to even compare. _Nice cover, you fucking moron._

"Okay, but—"

Luffy shushes him. "Cats can't do that! And I know that I couldn't have either, actually, because my nails are bitten to nothing.” He gasps. “Wait, _that's_ why you flinched in the kitchen!"

"Yeah, well. I'd like to change my answer to 'nothing happened, I'm perfectly fine' if it's all the same to you." Zoro digs his fingers into his knees with enough force to bruise.

Luffy gives him a look that successfully conveys how one-hundred percent done he is with his bullshit. _“Tell me,_ dammit."

"I _can't_ tell you," Zoro says, feeling helpless, and lying again. 

He can. He can spill the ugly truth and hemorrhage self-pity until they're both drowning in it— _choking_ on it. Until Luffy begs him to shut up, stop _whining,_ and get the fuck out of his house _._

So, yeah. He definitely can, but he doesn't want to.

He _wants_ Luffy to stop looking at him like that, to quit pushing. And yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, he also wishes he’d push _harder._

It makes zero sense.

He doesn't fucking know anymore. The signals to his brain are all scrambled and clogged with what-ifs. There's too much fear surrounding the part of him that feels like opening up is a good idea.

"Why?" Luffy doesn't look angry anymore, just overly-concerned, and then the words seem to flood out of him from there. "Why won't you tell me? I didn't say anything earlier, about Alvida. We were hardly friends and I didn't want to be that asshole who pries into your life. And, okay, maybe we aren’t that close _now,_ either, but I don’t care. I don’t like this. As far as I knew, you weren't hurt aside from a couple of slaps, which _still_ isn’t okay. But now, you're all— and I have this _feeling_ that she—"

He stops, abruptly, his face twisting.

"What?" Zoro asks, his stomach dropping all the way to his toes at the look of bewildered realization.

 _"Alvida,"_ Luffy hisses out, slowly, like the name’s syllables are acidic and it burns his tongue to even say them. "I don’t know how, exactly, but this is _her_ fault."

"I…" Zoro tries to say something back — _deny it, deny it, deny it_ — but his creativity fails him. Only a frustrated noise comes bubbling out of his mouth. 

Right on cue, that voice in his head (will it ever fucking leave him alone?) immediately starts in: _Pathetic. You've really lost your touch._

He can only agree. He's gradually been getting sloppier and sloppier at hiding the shit he comes home to every day. 

But, at the same time, he's never had to hide it very well.

He can usually feign that don't-give-a-fuck attitude of his and say what people want to hear: _I'm okay, just a bad day. Just tired._ And it's always good enough. It erases whatever inkling of doubt made the person ask in the first place. Concern from teachers comes and goes once they see how many fights he gets into. Few have ever cared enough to notice something's not quite right and do anything about it.

Until now, the matter has never been pressed. There’s no safe answer and there never will be.

"Stop. It's okay. I'm okay. It doesn't matter," he pleads the same old case. It's all he knows how to do.

"But it does matter!" Luffy insists, taking a step closer. "It's not okay, Zoro."

He sighs, shoulders slumping as he puts his head in his hands wearily. "Just… leave it alone."

A thick silence settles between them. Zoro can feel Luffy burning holes into his head with those eyes again. Jesus, _this_ is why. This is exactly why he can't have friends.

 _"I'm gonna kick her ass,"_ Luffy growls after a while, nostrils flaring. His hands ball into fists at his sides, a deep furrow in his brow.

He begins pacing, and Zoro’s never seen Luffy look so pissed. Not, he reminds himself, that they've even known each other long enough for him to be able to determine how high Luffy's levels of fury can go. But still. It’s a necessary reminder because it doesn’t _feel_ like that. Luffy acts like they’ve always been friends.

"Whoa, wait a second," Zoro tries to subdue him.

He begins to stand up, but Luffy snaps, "Sit down!" without even looking at him.

He swallows nervously and drops back onto his seat with a thud. He feels like he's being scolded for something, but doesn't know what that thing is. Or maybe he does and he just doesn't want to admit it.

"You're overreacting," Zoro accuses. 

He wants to bang his head on the rim of the sink, because, no, Luffy's not. Zoro's just grown extraordinarily passive about all this over five or six years. Repetition will do that. If anything, being so close to other people again has only reinforced a fact he has taken great steps to ignore: most parents don't claw their kids. 

They don’t try to stab them with the fractured end of a bottle after— 

_After._

Zoro blinks, thoughts swirling to explain it even to himself. “You’re fucking overreacting, okay?”

Because most kids don't mouth-off the way he does. They don’t get so lit on fire by anger that they break their fingers against the wall. They don’t pick a fight every other day and get expelled twice. They don’t float in the system for eight years before even their caseworker finally goes _fuck it, you’re hopeless_ and stops accommodating them when they say _this family hates me too._

Most kids don’t deserve Alvida, but the fact of the matter is, Zoro _is not_ most kids.

He wonders what it’ll take for Luffy to see that.

“Seriously, you’re—”

"Am not!" Luffy spits back, then makes Zoro feel ten times worse with the way he switches emotions entirely and _deflates._ "But I know you're not going to listen to me, so I'll just shut up."

"I'm sorry," is all Zoro can bring himself to say. 

At least he's not lying anymore.

As thick as the tension is, it dissipates when a bang sounds on the bathroom door. 

A voice loud enough to wake the dead yells, "IS KINKY SHIT GOING DOWN? ARE YOU TWO USING PROTECTION LIKE I TOLD YOU TO?”

"Sanji!" another voice scolds, aghast, and undoubtedly Chopper.

At this point, Zoro is dying to make Luffy laugh, smile — do anything but stand there like he's been turned into a forever-frowning statue. That's his only reason, strange new rivalry aside, for shouting back to Sanji, "Of course, mother! We wouldn't want to make a horrible mistake like yours did when she had you!"

And thank fuck, it works. 

Luffy's eyes widen before he throws his head back and bursts into raucous laughter. Zoro smirks, satisfied when he hears Sanji try and fail to splutter a response from the other side of the door.

"Oh, shut up! Just get the hell out of there and join the rest of us. Franky's trying to make Robin sing karaoke. I think she's going to stab him."

"Again?!" Luffy exclaims, making Zoro raise an intrigued eyebrow. "Fine, we'll be out in a second."

"By the way," Sanji adds, "Susan's out here. I'm taking her— him— _Susan_ hostage. Man, Ace was right, not using pronouns at all is a pain in the ass."

Zoro rolls his eyes. “Use ‘they’, I guess.” Then he realizes that he could have squashed and killed Susan when he and Luffy fell. "Shit. They’re okay, right?"

Sanji hums, probably checking for anything not-okay, then says, "Yeah, seems to be."

Zoro sighs in relief. "Good."

"Hey, Chopper," Luffy speaks up, moving toward the door. "You still there?"

There's shuffling before Chopper answers, "Yeah. Why? Do you need anything?"

"Switch places with me and come in here for a sec," Luffy says. "I'll follow Sanji and you and Zoro can meet us later."

"I— okay, t-that's fine, I guess," Chopper stammers, sounding caught off guard.

Zoro's caught off guard himself, shooting to his feet and grabbing Luffy's shoulder as he makes to leave.

"What the hell are you _doing?"_ he hisses. 

He'd thought this was between them. The others do _not_ need to know this kind of shit about him. He’s let Luffy figure out too much as it is.

Luffy shakes his hand off and turns to let Chopper in. "Will you just trust me?" he requests. "Chopper's not going to say anything."

He walks out and Zoro chokes on a nonexistent excuse because that's _exactly_ the problem. He _doesn't_ trust Luffy or Chopper or _any_ of the people here. God, he should've known. Everything always goes to shit when he tries to socialize like a normal human being. Why did he think this was a good idea — agreeing to spend the summer with people he barely knows and that barely know him?

_They're not Alvida._

That’s the obvious answer here, and it corners him, leaving him defeated. Zoro backs up and slides down the wall until he's sitting. He pulls his knees up as far as they'll go, not caring if they brush uncomfortably against his chest. Just this once, he'll let himself brood, nice and proper, in the standard 'not okay' position.

He hears the door close softly once Chopper enters, footsteps pattering across the tile toward him. He doesn't want to look up. 

Why did Luffy leave him with Chopper? Does he want to get away from Zoro that badly?

He sighs, trying to shake the pessimism taking hold of him. They both need time to cool down after that awful fucking confrontation. Maybe it's in his best interest to be around someone who's not Luffy for now.

"Zoro? What's going on?" Chopper questions him.

"I'm still trying to figure that out myself, to be honest." He scoffs. "And I don't know why Luffy sent you in here if that's what you mean."

"Oh, well, that makes two of us. He only told me you were being stupid, and to get you a new shirt." Chopper gives an awkward laugh. "I guess a start would be why you're… um, shirtless at all?"

Zoro blinks in moderate surprise. He had forgotten about that little detail. Chopper can't see the scratches with the way Zoro has all but caved in on himself.

"Well, that's—"

Chopper cuts him off with a loud gasp. "Wait a minute, y-you and Luffy weren't _actually—"_

He realizes all too quickly where Chopper's going with this and shouts, "No! No, I—"

 _I did not sleep with your friend like half of you must be expecting._ He bites the bitter words back, heart sinking. _This slut can control himself despite what you might have heard._

"But you told Sanji…" Chopper squeaks, face red as he trails off.

Oh. Well, he's thrilled that Chopper isn't making _baseless_ assumptions, at least. 

"No," he denies again, calmer this time. "I wasn't being serious. I was just… messing with him, as payback for saying dumb shit like that."

Chopper relaxes. "Okay. I'm sorry for acting so horrified. I'm not... against it or anything. It just would've been really awkward and— yeah, n-no thanks, you guys can keep that to yourselves."

Zoro shakes his head. "No, I get it."

"Do you mind explaining now?" Chopper says hurriedly. "Because I can't think of any other reason for why you'd be half-naked."

"Right. About that…" Zoro decides to get this over with.

He stands up, only to plunk back down on the toilet seat as he had earlier. The urge to cover himself back up is hard to resist when Chopper's eyes land on the scratches. The only reaction he gets from him is a hum and raised eyebrows.

"Oh, _now_ I understand," he claims, moving closer and grabbing the first-aid kit. 

He picks things out of the box, calm as can be, and arranges them on the sink counter. That's it. Chopper just goes to work, no questions asked, no judgment. Nothing but a smile and 'this might sting a little', a single request to lift his arms to make way for bandages. Zoro thinks they’re excessive, but brushes it off since he knows next to nothing about properly treating injuries. Really, for all he knows, antiseptic could be the cause of infection.

Regardless, it's a bizarre, silent patch-up job, and Zoro simply can't fathom it.

"So, what? That's it? We’re not gonna play twenty questions about what happened?" he asks, incredulous, but then another thought occurs to him. "Or maybe you don't care."

Chopper glances up, then looks back down and shakes his head, smile a bit sad now. "It's not that,” he murmurs. “I just remember hating all those questions myself. I wouldn't put you through the same thing."

He sucks in a sharp breath at the implications of Chopper's words. "What the fuck is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Chopper sighs and reaches over to fix a piece of tape on the bandage. Zoro somehow finds the small touch comforting, despite... _everything_.

"Middle school wasn't that easy for me,” Chopper says. “Neither was the first year of high school. I guess you can say that school and I _really_ don't get along, or at least me and the people in it. Me and people, in general."

"You were bullied." Zoro states it as fact, remembering the protective way the others surrounded Chopper when they met.

He nods. “No one liked the ‘girl’ trying to be a boy. That cut all his hair off and burned his dresses in the backyard. They didn’t... get it. I don’t know. Hated me for being me until _I_ almost did, too. It’s kind of funny, though. They certainly had no qualms about hitting a supposed ‘girl’. Girls themselves were more subtle about it and used their words, but it always sucked to get beaten up by guys three times my size." Chopper pauses and offers Zoro a sheepish smile as he adds, "Kind of like you, actually."

Zoro snorts lightly with a returned smile. "That explains a lot."

He says it jokingly, but it truly does explain Chopper's previous behavior. The hiding, the fear, his happiness over something as simple as Zoro not giving a fuck about Susan’s gender. It makes so much sense it hurts.

Chopper laughs, a soft sound, and pushes himself up onto the counter so that he's no longer standing. "Still, hiding the injuries might've been the worst part. My dad was in med school, so he always had books with the type of content I needed just lying around the house. I learned how to patch myself up pretty quick, how to conceal it. And I — I guess I thought that everything would be fine if I just pretended like it already _was_ fine? Point is, I kept my mouth shut, but then something else went wrong.

"My dad's health took a dive and he was hospitalized for a whole year before he died. I can't remember exactly what was wrong anymore, but it… it wasn't fair. All he ever did was try to help people, no matter what, and he died because everyone kept saying he couldn't be helped. They didn't even _try._ And I'd already planned on it, after admiring him all those years and wanting to help people like me who want it, but that was when I promised myself I would become a doctor.

“I ended up getting taken in by Dr. Kureha, a good friend of my dad’s from med school, rather than thrown into the system. I'd never had a mom, and we were basically the black sheep of the family. A-anyway, things at school got worse, of course, and that meant the pain got worse. So I might've— I mean, I kind of—" Chopper's voice cracks. He stops speaking with a gulp, hands gripping the edge of the sink as he shakes his head.

"Hey, I'm sorry I asked. You don't have to explain yourself, especially not to me," Zoro offers Chopper an out. 

The kid only sniffs and shakes his head more rapidly. "No, no, I want to. You're my friend, you deserve to know. And I feel like that's the only way you'll ever trust me enough to tell me what caused those scratches. Or any other future injury."

"Well…" Zoro hesitates, the words 'you're my friend' echoing in his brain, somehow different from hearing Luffy say it. _Take **that** , Alvida._ "You're not _wrong."_

"Yeah. I mean, it's a start, isn't it?" Chopper sniffs again, wiping a hand under his nose before blurting out, like he's ripping off a band-aid, "I... accidentally overdosed on pain meds one night."

Zoro's stomach twists. "Holy _shit,_ Chopper."

Chopper avoids his eyes and shrugs as if almost dying is no big deal.

"I must have taken too many in too short a time frame or something,” he says. “I don't know what I thought I was doing by taking that many. It was just a stupid, careless mistake. I-I swear I didn't mean for it to happen.” 

Zoro isn’t sure he buys that, because of the way Chopper babbles the excuse with a desperate edge. Because Zoro _knows_. He intimately knows what it’s like to feel that low. To sit numbly on bathroom tiles, clutching a pocket knife or a bottle of pills and wondering, _why not?_

But just as surely, he knows he doesn’t have any right to call Chopper out on it. He bites his tongue as the other boy continues speaking without a hitch.

“Either way, that's how Dr. Kureha found out. She had to rush me to the hospital, too freaked out to try to help me herself, I guess. And when they were trying to… bring me back, they saw the bruises and couldn't _not_ tell her. I remember her asking me over and over again what was going on, where all the wounds came from. I told her, eventually, but the bullying didn't decrease until after I started high school. 

“Well, until after I met Luffy and all the others. It felt a little like a miracle, meeting them. I finally had actual _friends,_ and Luffy was… he was just so _amazing._ He got into so many fights for me. He punched anyone who even attempted to hurt me right in the face, no matter where he was or who was watching. Or even who he happened to be punching. Luffy just doesn't care about that, and I love him for it — we all love him for it."

A rather belated stab of guilt hits Zoro. He understands, now, why Luffy had reacted the way he did to the scratches, however minor. He’s dealt with it before, with Chopper, and probably isn’t too keen on a repeat with Zoro. He’s pushing for answers before things escalate. 

Zoro’s found himself a stubborn, protective one, and he doesn't know yet if that's a good or bad thing. He releases a long sigh and shakes his head. "Well, Chopper, that's one hell of a past."

 _Like you have room to talk,_ the voice in his head snaps. _Shut up,_ Zoro snaps back, painfully aware that he's talking to himself. Maybe he’s legitimately going crazy. That voice has been a rather consistent presence tonight, after all. He'd never really noticed the warring in his head before now.

"Not the worst someone could go through, but I guess it's not the greatest either." Chopper shrugs it off and offers Zoro another small smile. "We should get back to the others before they start running in here again."

 _I feel like I owe you an explanation for this shit now,_ is what wants to trip off of Zoro's tongue next, but old habits die hard. 

He only ends up nodding in agreement to save himself the trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to know what you guys are thinking at this point because that was... a lot. Ending aside, how far have we strayed to the side of crack?


	5. Is This What the Kids Call Parkour?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoro remains confused and Garp isn’t helpful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re back to somewhat normal-sized chapters! I am absolutely winging it when it comes to where I cut them off. I’m sure some of you are going to recognize the tumblr references because I’m trapped on that hell site.

It's to the sound of "My Heart Will Go On" that Zoro blinks himself awake, puffs of hot air warming his right shoulder. The sensation is strange, to say the least, and when he turns his head to find the source, he can't help but smile. He forces the fond expression to drop from his face. He knows, even before it's gone, that it isn't something he can keep under wraps for long. Not when Luffy looks like that.

 _Cute,_ the word jumps from his mind. _Cute, cute, cute — Luffy is cute when he's asleep._

"You know, son, he bites. I don’t recommend getting too close."

Zoro jerks away from Luffy, much more awake. His heart pounds in his chest at the shock of a gruff, unfamiliar voice breaking the silence. The voice laughs, loud and proud, like they couldn't care less about the ungodly hour it must be. Then again, it might not be early at all. Zoro is just drained.

"Sorry, seems I scared ya!" they continue, and their increasing volume makes Zoro's ears ring.

"No way. Not scared," he mumbles, too tired to form complete sentences or care if his next question comes off as rude. "The hell're you, anyway?"

It probably is rude, but the loud man only laughs again. "I'm Garp, Luffy and Ace's grandfather."

"Oh." Zoro blinks, because _duh_. How had he not made that connection? Fuck it, he’ll excuse his idiocy, for now. He’s straddling that thin line between a drooling zombie and functioning human being.

"Hey, brat, since you're the first one up, why don't you come with me? I'm making breakfast."

Zoro hesitates, wondering if he should at least wake someone else first. Would it be weirder to say no than to accept? What the hell is the protocol for staying over at a house that isn’t yours? Sure, going to new foster homes was kind of the same concept, but still so different, because they just yanked him one way or another, and he never exactly felt welcome. Maybe that’s part of the problem. He _does_ feel welcome here, thanks to Luffy’s almost overwhelming excitement. The others’ quieter contentment with his presence doesn't hurt either. 

He’s not sure what to do with any of that. 

Garp seems to take notice of his hesitance. "Don't worry,” he assures. “I'm sure the others'll get up on their own. Luffy's got the nose of a bloodhound for food, so it won't be long once we get cookin'."

Zoro hides a smile and grunts his agreement. That definitely sounds like Luffy. He’d watched him devour over twenty s’mores last night. He was only outmatched by Chopper’s sweet-tooth. 

Navigating around everyone lying in his path without stomping on limbs, torsos, or faces proves difficult. All nine of them had passed out on the same general patch of carpet last night. It had been a strange fucking occurrence for Zoro, all things considered. 

He considers, briefly, not-so-accidentally stepping on Sanji, but he’d like to be somewhat more functioning before the next round of their two-person war. Even the thought of this rivalry reminds him how different everything is since yesterday.

Cold sheets are what he’s used to lying between, not living, breathing bodies sprawled left and right of him, at his toes and above his head. An impromptu yet practiced routine that he can’t help but feel he’d intruded on. 

He’s used to trepidation seeping through his every muscle, hot wiring them taut, his eyes closed but ears wide open. Always fine-tuned to hear every creak and groan of the floorboards as Alvida lurks about the house in a drunken stupor.

Nighttime, for Zoro, usually means praying that she won’t pay him a surprise visit. Last night, it had meant a safety and togetherness so alien to him that understanding it is like grappling with a bar or two of slippery soap, and he’s failing miserably in his attempts to catch the damn things.

God, his mind sucks. It’s too fucking early for him to be spawning metaphors about how awkward and emotionally stunted he is.

Zoro follows Garp into the kitchen, yawning the whole way. He stretches to get the stiffness out of his muscles from falling asleep on the floor. The kitchen is disgustingly bright, windows flooding it with natural light. He drops himself into a random chair and puts his head in his arms on the table.

He thinks he only got an hour or so of sleep at best, considering how late they all finally crashed. Eight o'clock in the goddamn morning, if his memory serves. Luffy and his group don't know when to fucking stop. Not that Zoro had wanted it to stop, exactly. It was just… _strange_ to be so readily accepted, treated like he hadn't met everyone that same day.

"Are they always like that?" he asks as he lifts his head a bit. Might as well see if the old man can help him figure these people out.

Garp pauses in stirring something that Zoro isn't paying enough attention to identify. "Always like what?" 

"That accepting of complete strangers."

Garp barks out another laugh. "Well now, I wouldn't call you a _complete_ stranger, but... yes. If Luffy likes you, calls you his friend, then his friends will fall in line, and you're as good as any of 'em."

"But _why?"_ Zoro presses, feeling oddly loose-lipped as he goes on. Sleeping well does weird things to him, evidently. _"_ Why me? I don't talk to people, I keep to myself. I give him a fucking piece of meat and he decides I'm his friend?"

"I guess sharing the meat was the final straw for him. A signal you were approachable.”

“In what world is that a signal to hit someone up for a road trip?”

“Luffy’s, obviously. Meat’s pretty… important to him. Let’s go with that.” His tone takes an abrupt, serious turn. “And I’d bet you’re also here because like calls to like, Zoro, and maybe you're not as alone as you think. Luffy doesn’t mind the grumpy type."

"Like to like, huh?" A small smile tugs at his lips. "Merry must be a lodestone for Fucking Weird then." A few beats of silence pass before something else about Garp's answer sinks in. Sure, maybe Luffy had told him before letting him come over but— Zoro squints at his back in suspicion. "Hey, I never told you my name."

Garp's back stiffens and relaxes so fast that Zoro would have missed it had he not been watching. 

"What're you talkin' about, kid?" Garp asks, feigning incredulity so terribly it’s embarrassing. "Of course you did!"

"Old man…" 

Garp sighs, hanging his head. "I know, I know. There's a reason I said you weren't a complete stranger."

He raises his eyebrows. "The hell does that mean?"

"Luffy's kind of…" Garp begins, only to pause for a long moment as he messes with the food again. Zoro waits. "See, Luffy's a blabbermouth. Whenever he’s here, he has this tendency to rant about things he thinks are 'cool' to me and Ace. 'Roronoa Zoro', the scowly kid with the green hair, has been one of the more common things these past few months."

His eyes widen, stomach doing that clenching thing it does whenever Luffy's mentioned. This time, he doesn't know if it's a good or bad reaction. "What? But that's…" he trails off, brain short-circuiting because _what the ever-loving fuck had Luffy told him?_ It can’t have been anything good.

This is totally what he needs. Parental figures being informed of how violent and disgusting their kids think he is. And then those parents go to the school, and the school goes to _Alvida—_

"Crazy? Or maybe stalker-ish is the word you're looking for?" Garp proposes, a hint of nervousness in the smile on his face. 

Zoro freezes, not expecting Luffy to still be the center of this conversation. _“Huh?”_

“I know how that boy is. Luffy can be... a bit _much.”_

A scowl wrinkles his brow at the way Garp says that, like it’s a bad thing. Like an _apology_ for his grandson’s kindness. Because when it comes down to it, even if he doesn’t know _why,_ that’s all Luffy’s been to him. “I have no idea what—”

Garp doesn’t let him finish. “I just hope this doesn't change how you might feel about him. He rambled about you so much it’d probably crush him.” He belts out another crude laugh as he adds, "Well, damn! Luffy must get his big mouth from me. It would've been a lot easier if you never found out. I'm actually surprised Ace didn't let it slip first!"

As Garp's laughter roars on in the background, Zoro remains silent, his thoughts racing for too many reasons. 

He inhales a sharp breath, stuck in limbo between panic, slight irritation, and extreme confusion. "It's not like it matters,” he says. “It's not that weird. I don't have friends, but I'm not invisible. Most people at least know I exist."

Mostly because of— really fucked up rumors. Not to mention he scares the shit out of the students and staff alike with his 'don't talk to me or I'll smash your nose into your skull' vibe. The old man doesn't need to know any of that. He _hopes_ Luffy didn’t _say_ any of that shit. He wants to ask but maybe Garp is just choosing not to be a dick by bringing it up. 

Garp snorts, mumbling under his breath so quietly Zoro almost doesn't hear him, "Bet those people don't talk about you with stars in their eyes though."

He blinks, then blurts, “Definitely fucking not.” And holy shit, his filter is absolute garbage, but— Garp doesn’t bat an eye. “Luffy’s kind of an outlier.”

“Sounds about right.”

Again with that fucking _tone._ So pitifully apologetic it’s insulting. 

He _almost_ chooses to ignore it, but it’s clawing a familiar sore spot and it’s starting to piss him off. “Luffy is…” Zoro wrinkles his nose, “well, he's _Luffy._ And Luffy is someone I want to be around.”

Garp looks over his shoulder at him, surprise clear. It morphs into a blinding grin. "I like you, brat! You've got a good head on your shoulders."

Zoro shrugs and rubs at the back of said head, cursing the heat on his cheeks. Approval isn't something he's used to earning without acting fake. Somehow, he's won Garp's by just being honest.

A sudden commotion from the next room draws their attention away. Zoro turns in his chair to watch the entrance to the living room.

Several loud thumps hit the wall, followed by groans and yelps and angry shouts. A hysterical scream of, "FOOD!" drowns them out. 

Zoro's breath hitches as Luffy barrels through the kitchen entryway. His chest heaves in the same way it had after fighting Usopp for Merry's keys, and his hair is as unruly as ever. The only difference is that his vest is completely open for all the world to see. For Zoro to see. 

He gulps. Now he really can say that _absolutely nothing has changed._ Zoro is still a creep, Luffy is still oblivious to all the strange charms he possesses, and he's twice as clueless about the effect it has on Zoro.

Luffy looks around wildly for a moment. His eyes linger on the food long enough to salivate over it before they land on messy green hair and rumpled clothing. It's his own clothing. Zoro wound up wearing one of Luffy’s pullover hoodies after the Why Are You Bleeding Debacle last night.

It's surprisingly baggy and soft and comfortable as fuck. It might also smell just like Luffy. Zoro is still trying to convince himself he hasn't noticed that last detail. He certainly hasn't spent any amount of time with his nose pressed to the sweater’s sleeves, inhaling like a stalker. Definitely not.

Luffy darts across the kitchen and stops just short of slamming into Zoro. 

"Yosh!" He grins like his life is complete. "I found Zoro _and_ food!"

Zoro can only blink dumbly at him and say, "Yeah."

He’s so fucking eloquent, it astounds him every day. 

Luffy squawks and flails his arms as he unexpectedly pitches forward. Zoro flinches back, flailing arms and rapid movement never great even when he’s fully awake. But Luffy only face-plants straight into him and sags until he’s lying limp across his thighs. Sanji stands behind him, his leg still raised menacingly as he glowers hard enough to kill someone. 

Zoro isn't sure what to do with a lapful of Luffy. Maybe he's supposed to haul it up and hug it for an embarrassing length of time. He’s feeling the strangest urge to do so, and he is so _not_ going to act on that. Hugs are fucking terrifying. He’s stood by that opinion his entire life, and there’s no way it’s going to change just because of Luffy’s sunny smiles. 

“You trampled on both Nami and Robin on your way over here, dipshit," Sanji seethes. He digs his foot into Luffy’s side, making him fall sideways off Zoro's lap towards the tile. "Unforgivable! Go apologize."

Luffy pouts, seeming unfazed as he remains on the floor and sits up to cross his arms and legs. "There's food in here!"

"That's a shitty excuse!"

"And there's Zoro, too," Luffy tacks on, as if that will help his case instead of making it worse for both of them.

"Oh, right. Of _course,_ it's Zoro. Ex-fucking-scuse me while you two have a glorified staring contest over bacon and eggs."

"BACON!" Luffy cheers, scrambling to his feet and leaping onto Garp's back. "Is there sausage, too, Gramps?"

Sanji pinches the bridge of his nose. "In one ear and out the other, unless the subject is meat. Shit, I need a smoke." He walks toward the door, only stopping to shoot a pointed look at Zoro and say, _"You_ deal with him. It's too damn early for me. The others are still recovering from being stomped on, so have fun, Marimo."

Zoro nods only because he recognizes that someone is speaking to him. He's not really paying attention to words or his surroundings anymore. He's too fucking tired. He doesn't even react when Luffy decides to sit in his lap, despite the many empty chairs stationed around the table. 

The menace then proceeds to chew aggressively on a handful of bacon. Luffy eats like a wild animal with six stomachs to fill, Zoro concludes, after the entire handful disappears down his esophagus in less than a minute. By then, he's already demanding more.

In response to his demands, Garp whacks Luffy on the back of the head. Zoro wonders if he should be around such violent people all the time. He quickly discards that thought when he realizes the hypocrisy of it. He's not so free of violent tendencies himself, as many walls, punching bags, and people have found out. He also lives with _Alvida._ Slaps are like a greeting in her household, although Zoro doesn’t take part.

"No!" Garp says firmly. "You're not eating the whole damn meal all by yourself again!"

Luffy sniffles. "Gramps is so mean to me, Zoro!"

"Oh, yeah. He totally is," Zoro agrees monotonously. 

He wraps an arm around Luffy's waist on impulse, then the other, and lets his forehead fall forward to rest against Luffy's back as he closes his eyes. It's sort of bony, but he can't bring himself to care much about that. The fact that he’s rebelling against his Hugs Are the Enemy philosophy moments after reinforcing it doesn't matter either. Luffy’s really skinny, actually, and it makes him wonder how he’d look in the big sweater he’d stolen for the night. (He's keeping it forever.) 

Luffy squirms and Zoro grunts in protest, squeezing. "Stop movin’," he grumbles. "This is your fault. You bastards kept me up all night."

He spares a silent thank you to whatever prevented him from having a nightmare last night. That would've been an uncomfortable experience for the whole group.

Surprisingly, Luffy just hisses, "Okay, Zoro can sleep there!" in response, like he's trying to be quiet but doesn't grasp how. He stays silent afterward, though, so he thinks Luffy understands well enough.

But the universe has never been kind to Zoro, and why should it start now? Silence reigns for all of one minute before the noise level rises with each person that files into the kitchen. His eyebrow twitches in annoyance. He's going to have to acquire immense patience, as well as the ability to sleep through a cacophony. He’ll never survive being on the road with this group otherwise. Luffy's loud voice mingles with the others', making the cheek Zoro has pressed to his back tingle with vibrations. His laughs feel like mini-earthquakes.

"Luffy," Nami sighs, "why are you sitting on Zoro?"

"He's comfy," Luffy answers, and Zoro detects a shrug.

"Really?" Chopper asks, voice filled with awe. "Let me try!"

"No way! Get your own Zoro. Plus, you hogged him when we were watching the movie, so you already know how comfy he is!" Luffy grabs the arms wound around his waist. Zoro should be annoyed with how possessive it feels, but it only makes him all warm inside again. Dammit. 

Deciding that he won’t be getting even a second more sleep, Zoro peeks over Luffy’s shoulder. He catches Robin’s eye first, who puts a hand to her mouth as she giggles, probably at the sight of him using Luffy as a pillow/human-shield.

He blinks once, and then Ace’s face is _right there_ _._ Zoro’s mind is so addled with fatigue that he can’t react fast enough to dodge the flick to his nose. He levels Ace with his fiercest scowl, but Ace merely clicks his tongue in disappointment.

“Sheesh, what’s with that face?”

“Don’t. Fucking. Flick me,” he growls. Luffy smacks frantically at his arm — a signal for him to ease up on his grip, lest Luffy’s intestines come popping out. Lovely imagery before a meal. He mentally high fives himself. 

“Okay, okay. Fine. But it’s a right shame.” Ace sighs despondently. “You have such a flick-able nose.”

Luffy dares to flick him, too, and then he nods in agreement. “Ace is right. It’s a good nose for flicking. But Usopp’s might be more flick-able.”

Said teen gasps in offense before stopping to think about it, staring hard at his nose with crossed eyes. The ease with which he can see it makes him sigh and admit, “Okay, you might be right.”

Luffy snickers, and despite his last comment, flicks _Zoro’s_ nose again. 

“Stop. Just stop, or I’ll…” Zoro pauses before blurting the first punishment that comes to mind, “I’ll tickle the crap out of you.”

Luffy reacts much more strongly than he had anticipated. He squirms, twisting his torso this way and that to get out of Zoro’s arms as he yells, “No! Ace, don’t let him do it!”

Ace only laughs at him, as does the rest of the group.

“You guys are so mean!” Luffy whines, still wriggling like a worm.

It’s only after he nails Zoro in the stomach with an elbow, knocking the wind out of him, that he freezes. Zoro lets out a strangled grunt the moment his breath (sort of) comes back to him.

“Ah. Sorry, Zoro,” Luffy gives a somewhat awkward apology.

“Used to it,” he gasps, telling the truth by accident.

Luffy should elbow him again — harder, right in the space between his ribs, for more of an effect. At least then he wouldn’t have to witness the switches in Luffy’s mind flip as he jumps from one emotion to the other. Shock, realization, guilt, before finally, he settles on anger. He seems to keep it well-tamed and leashed, though, which is surprising.

One deep breath later, the anger vanishes from Luffy entirely. He slumps back into Zoro as though his bones are made of jelly. Zoro is both impressed and thankful. He's very quickly come to the conclusion that he doesn't like fighting with him. They're both too stubborn to admit defeat. Maybe Luffy understands that, too.

Witnessing Ace set fire to a small pile of bacon, and the embittered look on Garp’s face as he does so, makes Zoro understand a few more things. 

One, Ace is not their chaperone on this trip. Two, _saying_ _so_ was Garp’s master plan to get rid of the pyromaniac for the summer. And three, Zoro needs to get used to fire alarms and the general chaos of Merry’s Misfits _fast_.

* * *

  
Going on the road trip doesn't seem like a real, tangible thing to Zoro. Not until their bags are stowed underneath Merry's seats and they're all sitting in the belly of the beast. The engine is revved and ready to go, yet they remain parked in the driveway. Robin reads a book serenely on one side of him, and Chopper's head lolls against his shoulder on the other.

Nami keeps turning around in the passenger seat every two minutes. She's had no luck so far with getting Luffy and Franky to quit screaming their excitement in her ear. It's only a matter of time before she resorts to violence. Ace sits back and watches them all, amused, until he abruptly falls asleep. Usopp screeches along to the radio in the driver's seat, shameless in his butchering of the lyrics. Zoro doesn't recognize the song, but it's absolute shit, so Nami really should be paying more attention to Usopp than Luffy and Franky.

Sanji, on the other hand, is… subdued. At least, that's how Zoro would describe it. He hasn't heard a single word, curse or otherwise, uttered by Sanji since he came back inside from his smoke. What exactly had he smoked? Weed? He keeps staring dazedly out the window, or off into blank fucking space, and he needs to stop. It's starting to make Zoro squirm, and fuck knows why he even cares a smidge about it.

For once, it isn't an Alvida Issue™ at all. Maybe it just reminds Zoro too much of himself; it's his job to be the moody piece of shit. He is the designated moody piece of shit. Sanji can just groom his curly eyebrows and continue being the pissy yet clever one that curses more than six sailors combined.

Zoro blinks.

Did he indirectly compliment the bastard?

"Fuuuuck, can we leave?" Sanji finally graces their ears with his voice. "I better hear yes. You guys are giving me the world's shittiest headache already."

And hell _nope,_ of course Zoro didn't. He will deny it to his grave.

“Stop whining,” Nami snaps. “We’ll go when we go.”

As if on cue, Merry gives a sharp lurch as Usopp backs her out of the driveway. Garp waves goodbye with a large grin on his face.

They hit a pothole some ways down the street, and Chopper frowns against his shoulder at the movement. Zoro presses his palms into the seat to cut his own swaying, not wanting to disturb him further. 

Sanji throws his hands up towards the roof. “Halle-fucking-lujah! _Finally,_ we’re on the way—”

The van jerks to a sudden stop, right in the middle of the street, at Usopp’s shrill shout of, “OH MY GOD, WE FORGOT SUSAN!”

Chopper startles awake, looking around wildly. “What?! What is it?!”

Zoro gapes at his own irresponsibility, leaning forward in his seat. “THEN GO THE FUCK BACK!”

“Oh, _hell_ no!” Sanji protests, wagging an aggressive finger in Zoro’s face. “We were finally getting somewhere. We are _not_ stopping for your fucking couch lizard!”

“Yes,” Zoro growls, “we fucking _are!”_

“No, we’re—” 

“It’s my van,” Usopp raises his voice above Sanji’s, “and I say we’re going back for Susan. If you don’t like it, get out, go sulk in the house. We’ll leave without you.”

They all gawk at his boldness, except Sanji, who scowls and starts to get out of his seat. “Oh, yeah? Really?”

“You’re just mad because you woke up holding _my_ hand again instead of Nami’s.” He raises a thick eyebrow. “Thanks for the kiss on the knuckles.”

Sanji’s scowl darkens, but so does the color in his cheeks. “Bring that up _one more time...”_

Whatever bravery Usopp possessed before drains extremely fucking fast. He shakes his head and tries in vain to back away.

“No!” he squeals. “I didn’t mean it, please don’t hurt me, I’m too young to die!”

Zoro’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance. “If you didn’t mean it, why say it? To look cool?” 

Actually, that probably _is_ why considering this is _Usopp._

“No!” he denies. “I was… genuinely concerned about Susan being left behind, of course! But that was _before_ I realized Susan is much safer with Garp than woefully trapped in a van with Sanji.”

The words are obviously pulled straight out of his ass, but Zoro doesn’t have the patience or the energy necessary to argue about it. Not with someone like Usopp. His mouth is a garbage disposal, and his lies are like fucking rocks sitting at the bottom. They're harmless dead-weight until the switch flips and a grating, cacophonous noise comes out in the form of _‘I once…’_

Sanji doesn’t have the patience, either, as he shrieks, "FUCKING _DRIVE,_ THEN." 

Merry’s tires squeal as Usopp guns it down the road. The teenagers all groan as their heads smack against the windows or, alternatively, each other’s heads. Sanji gets knocked right off his feet, flying face-first into the back of Usopp's seat. 

Zoro rubs at where Chopper's skull briefly connected with his own. He figures that, maybe, the collision rattled his brain enough for it to roll over and play dead, because he decides to climb over Robin. 

Robin doesn't do much about it. She only cocks her head quizzically and lets herself be his temporary jungle gym. Sanji promptly loses his shit — "Get off of Robin, you pervert! If _I_ can't do it, _you_ can't do it!" — in the background. 

Uncaring, Zoro grabs the door handle and heaves it open, allowing air to whoosh in. Nami curses violently as her long hair attacks her face. Robin gets a mouthful of her own as a continuous blast of air whips at the side of her head. 

"What the shit are you doing, Zoro?!" 

He doesn't know who yells it, but he shrugs, answering, "I'm going to get Susan."

Several shrieks of terror precede Usopp slamming on the brakes — _again,_ their heads start a game of pinball — as Zoro flings himself out of a still speeding Merry, doing the classic tuck and roll. 

A little ways down the street, the van squeals to a stop, her occupants continuing to screech right along with her. 

Zoro blinks against the blacktop. He barely notes the painful sting at his shoulder and elbow before he pushes himself to his feet. Minor scrapes, he figures, as he sprints back to Luffy's house. The muted rumble of Merry's engine goes quiet, replaced by the sound of footsteps clomping after him and voices shouting his name.

“Hey, brat! What’re you doing back here so soon?” Garp calls out, still dawdling in the driveway when Zoro approaches. His jaw drops comically as he seems to realize something. “Shit! I haven’t been standin’ out here for two whole months, have I?”

Zoro almost trips, shaking his head in amazed disbelief. _He and Luffy are_ **_definitely_ ** _related._ “No, old man. You’ve been out here for _five minutes._ I came back to get—” he stops, noticing something distinctly green poking out of Garp’s hair, squinting at it. 

Susan blinks at him from her new perch. 

Zoro feels betrayed. 

Garp notices his disgruntled stare and deposits the lizard into the green of his hair. "I guess this is yours."

Zoro nods shortly in thanks before turning around and walking back toward the van. He wrinkles his nose and considers walking the other way. Maybe this was his wake-up call. They won't want him anymore. He should just go home— _no_ , hell no, not now that he’s declared himself free for the summer. Koshiro's it is, then, as long as he comes up with a good enough lie...

 _“Zoro!”_ Luffy nearly crashes into him when he’s halfway to the van.

The others are right behind him and, instantly, they begin to berate him for his earlier stunt. Various forms of _‘you can’t just jump out of the van, dumbass!’_ and ‘ _do you have a deathwish?!’_ assault him from all sides. 

He’s tempted to say yes to the second one but decides a shrug will suffice. “Didn’t think Usopp would pull over after Curly scared him into submission.” 

Sanji seethes over the nickname, Usopp squawking protests. 

Nami scoffs and asks, “So you thought it’d be a good idea to fucking _tuck and roll_ instead?”

He’s done it before, to escape one foster family or another because their sliminess was all too obvious from the get-go. (He wishes he’d had the foresight to do the same with Alvida.) 

“Well, yeah,” Zoro says, tilting his head. “I wanted to stop. You didn’t want to stop. Obviously, we weren’t going to be stopping.”

They all blink at him, incredulous for reasons he can’t even begin to fathom. 

“Holy shit. Are you— holy fucking _shit._ Marimo, are you actually being _serious_ right now?” Sanji is the first to verbalize his confusion, seeming personally offended by Zoro’s words.

He only gets more of Zoro’s confusion in response. What part of this was so hard to understand, exactly? “Uh... yeah. I thought that was pretty clear.” 

Franky shakes his head, eyes so large they look like they might fall out of his head. “We wouldn't let you roll to your _death,_ bro!”

Zoro’s mouth twitches, and he can’t tell if he wants to frown or smile. “Well, I figured you guys wouldn't take it _that_ far. I'm just saying it doesn't matter if I said to stop when Sanji didn't want to.” 

“Oh,” Robin intones, shooting him a wry smile. “You don't think we’d value your input over one of our longer-standing friend’s opinions, correct?” 

Eyebrows shoot upward all around like this conclusion is the most shocking thing they've heard all week. (Which is frankly un-fucking-believable. Zoro’s already so painfully out of his depth in crazy and it’s only been two days.)

Zoro tilts his head in consideration. He appreciates Robin’s ability to translate his shitty explanations, even if he’d meant that his opinion usually doesn't matter _in general._ Oh well. Semantics. 

He shrugs. “More or less.” 

Robin’s smile softens. Luffy and Chopper both give him these big, sad eyes, while Sanji and Nami take the opposite route and scowl at him. Franky and Usopp spout random shit that mangles together so much he can't even decipher it. 

And then they literally _corral_ him into the van, like he’s incapable of entering it without their uncomfortably guilt-trippy behavior acting as a prod. And he doesn’t understand that, either. Why do they feel bad that he isn’t worth as much as long-time friends? That shit is just _logic._

“Why the fuck are you—” 

Robin presses a finger against his lips, gaze full of empathy and voice hushed. “You matter here, Zoro. I recommend finding a way to accept that.” 

Well, that… doesn’t make any goddamn sense at all.

He gulps. He’s definitely anxious, looking at all of them and seeing expectations that have never been placed on him before.

If only it didn't make his chest feel so achingly warm.

His head thunks against Merry’s wall as the van begins to move again.

What the fuck has he gotten himself into? 

“Something wonderful.” He looks over at Luffy and his confusion must show because he gets a luminous smile. “What you’ve gotten into,” he says like that makes it any clearer.

Understanding hits like lightning. He’d said that _out loud?_ Christ, he’s clearly losing it. (Or he’s not used to holding it in so thoroughly because no one’s ever paying attention to anything he says anyway. He suspects it’s more likely that first one, though.)

“Thanks,” he says, though he’s not quite sure what he’s thanking Luffy for. 

_Something wonderful,_ some part of him answers. 

He firmly tells that part of himself to shut up. He tries for a smile though he knows he’s not good at them and out of practice to boot. Luffy beams back like it’s the best thing ever though, and that’s enough for him.

* * *

“Hold on, did Ace sleep through _all_ of that shit?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty good at that.”

“What the— okay, fine. Right. Of fucking _course_ he did.”

* * *

  
“Every 17 years, hordes of insects emerge from the ground. All of them are screaming.”

“Did you learn that from Wikipedia? Wikipedia is magical.”

“Yeah, and cicadas are the devil incarnate of nature. How long did they think it was the _trees_ that were screaming and not the bugs? Who the fuck discovered any of this?”

“Now _there’s_ a question for Wikipedia.”

The combination of Franky and Ace is truly mystifying to Zoro. He has no goddamn clue how they’ve come upon this conversation topic, but it’s taken several hours. Granted, he slept through most of it and has yet to even open his eyes. Touch filters in soon after his hearing. Warm weight tells him that Chopper remains propped against his shoulder.

Although it’s more that they’re braced against each other than anything else, which— okay. Sure. Zoro thinks he’s fine with this not-quite-cuddle. He’s just a bit alarmed with how fast Chopper has abandoned all fear and latched onto him, in both a literal and metaphorical sense. 

He’s even more alarmed to find that it’s somewhat... _mutual._

He blinks at the other’s peaceful face, chest tugging in a way that tells him he’s _already_ broken his own unspoken rule of keeping them at arm’s length. It's hard to resist it. Something in Zoro is just— viscerally _protective_ of Chopper. Something that’d be ready to fight a fucking bear. He hates it. Wants to nip it in the bud while he can. 

It’s too much. Too deep, too fast. His attachment to all of them is growing at a breakneck pace no matter how strong his mental brakes are. But it’s nothing new when he traces backward in time. It’s always been like this. He’d get attached to his foster families, even the ones that treated him less than kindly. And they just— easily, _so_ easily, scooped out every bit of affection or care they might’ve had for him. 

Zoro never gets the chance— the _choice_ to let go before something is ripped away from him. 

Maybe he’ll take it more seriously this time.

He sits up before he can change his mind, ignoring the guilty twinge when Chopper falls over without his support and startles awake. He can feel the confused, questioning gaze trained on his profile, but he crosses his arms and doesn’t acknowledge it. 

This is how it has to be. Neither of them will get hurt this way.

He just has to convince the wrongness swirling in the pit of his stomach of that truth.

Eventually, Chopper retreats into his own bubble, and Zoro finally lets himself breathe. 


	6. The Accuracy of Zillow Listings Is Astronomical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoro stumbles through a darkened wood and has fun. Fun and an existential crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is almost pure crack, but it's my sincerest hope that you guys laugh at least once. (And, yes, Usopp's actions here are largely inspired by Unsolved's Ryan Bergara, just MORE cowardly.)

He doesn’t know what he expects from a road trip, honestly. It sounds way more fun in his head until he realizes it means hours upon hours of sitting in the back of a van as conversation dies and resurrects itself sixty times a day. 

The only stop they make all day aside from a rest stop is a random pet store. Only he and Nami get out, because she ‘refuses to spend three hours in the store while they all goof around.’ He’s not been around them long, but he knows that’s more than true. 

It turns out Susan is a gecko, according to the employee who squeals at how comfortably Susan rests in his hair. 

“A day gecko! You must’ve had them for a long time!”

Zoro backs up as she crowds him against the shelf to see Susan. He knows bending down to let her see will help, but _what the fuck._ Does he have a sign on him that says _everyone please invade my personal space_ or something? “Huh?” 

“Oh, yes,” she says, like he even asked a real question. “Geckos are especially sensitive, but I suppose it’s a bit different since you’re not holding them most of the time. I rarely see reptiles get that comfortable with their owners!” 

“It’s only been one day,” Zoro says. Or maybe snarls, because he’s still slowly shifting away from her. He draws the line when she strains on her tip-toes and reaches for his shoulder, shoving a bowl toward her as he asks, “Is this too fucking big?” 

“That’s a dog bowl, so, yes!” She plonks back onto her heels, turning to put it back, and Zoro shuffles very unsubtly halfway down the aisle. “Wow, that’s special! I wonder why they like you so much.” 

Nami snorts, periodically scrolling on her phone while she surveys their options. “He probably just has a really warm head.” 

“You think?” Her whole body snaps toward Zoro again. “Let me feel!”

He glares at her. Jesus christ, they need to get the fuck out of here. 

Thankfully, Nami walks between them to grab something. “Tempting as that is, he’s not a dog.”

Zoro blinks, not really expecting the mild defense she offers, but she doesn’t acknowledge his stare and it’d be weird to say thank you. 

“Alright, crickets it is. We’ll pick up some fruits or vegetables at some point.” She snickers, slipping her phone back in her pocket. “Sanji might have fun being a lizard chef, even if he won’t admit it.”

The employee finally leaves them alone when Nami shoos her away as nicely as either of them can manage. 

By the time they’re done, it’s clear Susan requires a lot more shit than Zoro had previously thought. Where the hell is all of this going to fit in Merry? Fuck, he’s going to have to borrow someone’s phone to research what to do with half this stuff. Luffy or Franky might be willing victims. They might even _help_ him research, given their excitement over Susan. 

Nami winces at the total when the cashier finishes ringing them up.

“Why is everything here like four more fucking dollars?” she grumbles under her breath, though she sticks her card in the slot before Zoro can even try to use his own.

“Hey!” he snaps, but the machine beeps and there’s nothing he can do but watch her put the card back in her wallet. “Nami, you didn’t fucking have to—”

She waves her hand dismissively at him, gathering the bags as he lifts the twenty-gallon tank she’d insisted on. “Just take me shopping a few times and we’ll call it even.” She swings the bags cheerfully in her fists. “I bet you can carry so much more than Sanji!” 

A shiver goes down his spine. That’s a veiled threat if he’s ever heard one. 

* * *

Hours later, Susan’s fully functional cage glows dimly in the van as they bask in their heat lamp. Franky works some magic to get it to plug in correctly, and the whole thing ends without incident for once. 

The radio has become a jumble of static and random words now that they’re in the middle of nowhere. The most interesting thing he can possibly watch is Luffy jumping a block across his glaringly bright phone screen. The thick forest they made their way into at sunset doesn’t interest him in the slightest thanks to how dark it’s gotten. His own phone is still _not_ an option. Alvida is sure to have blown it up by now and Zoro will be damned if he doesn’t pretend to ignore that shitstorm as long as he can.

Merry slows to a stop along the side of the road, and Zoro startles as Franky bolts upright from his place on the floor like— well, certainly not _un_ like Frankenstein’s monster. 

“Are we here?” he asks, struggling to his feet to look over Usopp’s shoulder. “Is it time?”

Usopp clicks a flashlight on and levels it at his chin, slowly turning around to reveal his shadowed face. “Yes. We’ve come to meet my longtime friend, though I don’t think he will make himself known to anyone but me. He has a proclivity for crossword puzzles and enjoys eating fruit leather as he reads victorian literature. A lonely lifestyle, befitting of his cryptid stature. His cabin vanishes the moment you exit, so, alas—” Usopp solemnly clicks the flashlight off “—I have never been more than once.”

“No fair!” Chopper whines. “I want to be Bigfoot’s friend!”

Zoro does a double-take. “Wait, _what?”_

“We-ell he’s big around the middle and he’s broad across the rump!” Luffy shriek-sings, right in his fucking eardrum, and Zoro cringes so hard he hits the floor.

Ace joins in across the van. “Going ninety miles ‘n hour, takin’ forty footed jumps!”

“Ain’t ever been caught or run up a tree!” Franky croons, yanking the brothers under his arms. “But some folks say he sings a lot like me!” 

Sanji pushes past them with an eye-roll. He heaves the door of the van open and sits in the gap. “This is so fucking stupid. It’s too dark for this shit.”

Usopp’s head whips toward him as he clicks his lighter, moving faster than should be possible from the driver seat to tackle him into the dark woods. “No smoking in Merry!” 

Sanji’s shrill, genuinely terrified scream of, _“Jesus-god fuck!”_ and the crunch of twigs as they hit the ground elates Zoro to his very soul. 

“Hey, Nami,” Luffy pokes her pin-wheel tattooed shoulder incessantly, “can we have torches instead of flashlights?”

“No, we’re not starting a forest fire tonight.”

Ace gives her the side-eye. “But, and hear me out, what if—”

“I will hand-cuff you to the van and leave you here.”

“Kinky.”

Usopp reenters the van, various leaves and twigs lodged soundly in his hair. “Sanji’s taking a fun dirt nap. We started a small forest fire but managed to put it out before it grew and swallowed us!” 

“No _fucking_ fair!” Ace sobs. 

“Is he hurt?!” Chopper snags a flashlight and bolts out the van door. “Why do you guys always just leave injured people by themselves?!”

To Zoro’s chagrin, Sanji is not injured and Chopper beckons them outside. He sighs, taking one of the nine identical backpacks Nami hands to them all on their way out. 

It’s too bad a maiming by an Usopp is only worth two damage points. 

They stand around in the darkness for god knows how long to conserve flashlight battery, waiting for god knows what. But then he knows. A shimmering blob appears before them, illuminated by the small lantern Nami turns on near Merry’s wheel, and it all makes sense.

Sanji snorts, chuckling behind his hand. “Wow, Usopp, that’s adorable.”

Zoro stifles a laugh himself. “Why, pray tell the fuck, are you wearing a helmet and a neon vest?” 

Usopp adjusts the chin strap. “Safety first! I don’t want to get shot. Do _you_ want to get shot?” 

Maybe so. “I thought the goal was to catch this thing, not blind it.”

Nevermind the fact that it’s pitch-black and the flashlights can only go so far. What the fuck kind of sighting are they hoping to get out of this? 

Robin hums consideringly. “Bigfeet _are_ known to smash things over the head to kill them.”

“That!” Usopp squeals. “She says horrifying stuff like that and now I have to _come prepared—”_

Franky pats his shoulder. “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about if you’re really friends with him.”

“It’s not always the same Bigfoot!”

Zoro tilts his head. “There’s more than one?”

Everyone turns toward him, chorusing an adamant, “YES!” as though it’s obvious. 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Alright, okay, I’m new here.” 

Is that a thing? Is he going to have to brush up on all things weird and creepy, shrouded in mystery? They all seem _very_ into it. This is not how he pictured his night going but he can’t exactly say he hates it yet. 

Hell, it might even turn out to be fun. 

* * *

An hour in, Zoro still isn’t sure he’s having what most people would consider fun. 

Luffy seems to be having the time of his life even though his focus is trained steadfastly on educating Zoro. He’s run through the history and sightings of the current cryptid, moving on to the hoaxes. Zoro doesn’t know how the fuck he remembers all this shit but he’s goddamn fascinated. Luffy grabbed his hand somewhere in between all of that, and Zoro still can’t make himself just— let go. At this point, he’s kind of accepted the way Luffy assumed ownership of his right hand from the moment they met. 

“There was this one time where they thought they discovered a Bigfoot corpse in a block of ice,” he blabbers, so close to him his skin buzzes with a combination of warmth and nerves, “but it turned out to be a costume. And another dude a few years back decided to be a massive dick, so he created a whole hoax about shooting a Bigfoot, then went on tour with the fake body! I kind of hate him. Why would you even kill one? I’m pretty sure they’re considered endangered! Anyway, it was a whole thing.”

His hand squeezes each time his voice raises above a whisper, and it distracts Zoro until he realizes this is where he’s supposed to respond. “You’ve got to be shitting me. He went on _tour_ with it and people showed up?”

He nods. “He named it Hank and made a stupid amount of money even though he got exposed later. Another guy kind of tried the same thing with some footage and pay-per-view, but I don’t think it succeeded as much. And then this other—”

Sanji groans, cutting him off. “Luffy, come on. I get it, you’re excited Zoro’s here, but are you _ever_ going to fucking stop?”

Zoro glares at him, ignoring the heat pooling in his cheeks. It’s probably dark enough no one will notice, and Sanji’s back is turned anyway. “Go take another run at a tree and knock yourself out, asshole.” 

“That’s not what happened, you fucking—” Sanji gasps and the knowing tone he leads with makes him scowl harder. “Holy shit. Are you enjoying it? Are supernatural creatures how you guys talk dirty to each other?”

“No, you’re just— mean!” Luffy sticks his tongue out. “Shut up, Sanji. Go bug Usopp!”

“You know, I think I will. I’m gonna throw my lighter at his stupid helmet and do a little Bigfoot yodel right in his ear. It’s gonna be cute.” 

Luffy huffs, squirming uncomfortably. His fingers wriggle restlessly in the gaps between their joined hands, and he doesn’t launch into more lore even after Sanji joins the front of the group. Zoro chances what he hopes comes across as a reassuring squeeze. Luffy bumps his shoulder, a giggle bubbling out, and Zoro swears to fuck his heart gallops in his chest. How the hell is he so—

“EeEeEEeEE—!” An ungodly shriek pierces the night, answered immediately with another, even _more,_ ear-splitting scream. 

“SANJI!” Nami roars, underscored by an electric-crackle sound, and wow, it has gotten several decibels past tolerable for Zoro within just four seconds. 

“WHAT THE FUCK, NAMI, PUT YOUR TASER AWAY! IT WAS A _JOKE!”_

“OH, HA-HA, SO FUNNY. I’M SURE IT’LL BE REAL FUNNY TO HEAR WHAT KIND OF SOUND YOU MAKE WHEN—” 

“NOPE! Nuh-uh, I’m done!” Usopp shouts as he runs past Zoro, neon vest nearly blinding him as he turns the flashlight to watch his terrified fleeing. “I’m waiting back at Merry!”

“Oh, fuck. Usopp, come back!” Nami calls, then quickly gives up when she realizes he’s long gone and would rather chew off his leg than rejoin them. “He always gives up, but this is a new record. Did you really have to be such an ass?”

“Luffy put me up to it!” 

With an offended gasp, Luffy wrenches his hand out of Zoro’s and stomps up to them. “I said bug him, not— whatever you did!” 

“I did exactly what I said I was going to do and you didn’t stop me.”

Robin snorts. “Luffy doesn’t control your idiocy.”

“Yeah! I’m only responsible for my own!”

“Is that how that works?” Ace asks. “Have I been doing it wrong all this time?”

“Bro, me too,” Franky says, sounding genuinely enlightened, and Chopper just sighs and rolls his eyes from— 

Zoro does a double-take at the light seemingly hovering in midair. When the _fuck_ had he climbed on top of Franky’s shoulders?

Nami facepalms. “Whatever. It was inevitable. Let’s just keep going.”

Franky clicks his flashlight on and off sporadically as they continue stumbling through the woods. “Maybe we should pair off and—”

“NO!” Nami whips around, nerves wearing thin. “For the last goddamn time, _no._ No torches, no splitting up, no outfits made of meat. Never again. There is rope in my bag and I _will_ tie it between all of us like we’re on a kindergarten fieldtrip if you insist on being stupid.”

Zoro feels like he already knows the answer, but— “Who wore it? The meatsuit? Say aye right fucking now.”

Franky, Luffy, and Ace all chorus a jumbled, “Aye!” 

_Three of them._ Holy shit, no wonder Nami is losing her mind. 

* * *

This sentiment only intensifies thirty minutes later when they really _do_ lose Luffy. 

They all scatter a little bit to search, flashlights acting as location beacons. One of them glows several feet up a tree. Zoro bets his left arm it belongs to Ace. Bets it to what, exactly, he doesn’t know. Maybe Bigfoot. 

“How could he just be gone?! Did a bear already eat him?” Nami lifts a sizable rock as if she’s going to find him tucked under it. 

“There would have been much more screaming, were that the case,” Robin says, rational and unnerving in the same breath. 

Nami snaps back to an upright position and points her flashlight accusingly at Zoro. “Weren’t you two holding hands? How the hell did he get away from you?”

Screw her for pointing that out, but he’s starting to panic, too. He squints against the light aimed toward his face. “Fucking _stop_ that. And _I don’t know._ He’s slippery and much harder to keep track of when he’s not talking my ear off, okay?” 

Not to mention Zoro is a space cadet at the best of times, but still. Not the point he wants to make. This is _not_ his fault. A lot of things already are. He can’t add on Luffy being eaten by a bear. 

“He probably just got bored and ran ahead.” Robin smooths a hand along her back, and Nami relaxes a fraction. “I doubt he turned off his flashlight. We’ll find him.”

“Okay.” She exhales slowly, pushing her palms toward the ground in a meditative gesture. “You’re right.” 

Sanji walks up behind Robin, apparently having given up searching. “It’s not like this is the first time he’s pulled this shit.”

Zoro isn’t sure he wants to know how many other times there have been. 

“Hey!” Ace yells, dropping down from whatever branch he was perched on, ankles miraculously intact afterward. “I saw a cabin!”

Somewhere behind them, Franky whoops. “Neat!” He lumbers toward their cluster of five, Chopper squawking protests at his reckless pace as he’s dragged by the arm. “Haunted cabin sleepover!”

“Hell fucking no,” Nami says, with feeling, but she still follows them as they all follow Ace like lambs to the slaughter. 

Eventually, they spot it through the foliage and tree trunks. It’s fucking massive. A golden glow bleeds through cream-curtained windows, reaching two stories high. It’s hard to see the condition of the wood in the darkness, but Zoro imagines a splintery hell-beast of a structure. And he can’t lie, his curiosity is piqued, a thrill of excitement going through him. He wanders forward as though possessed, starting to understand why Luffy enjoys this crap. 

Nami, on the other hand, stops short several feet from the rest of them.

“We are _not_ spending the night in the ominous, convenient cabin we found in the middle of the woods! Haven’t you guys ever seen a horror movie?” She sighs. “Where’s Usopp when I need him?” 

Ace points at her, slowly backing toward the cabin as he chants, “First. To. Die! First. To. Die!”

Robin, Franky, and Sanji immediately join in. Zoro silently backs up alongside them with Chopper while they continue their ritual to summon disaster upon Nami. 

Chopper frowns, latching onto Zoro’s arm. “Wait, is this really the best idea?” 

Zoro shakes him off with a shrug, ignoring the question and pretending not to see Chopper’s frown deepen at the lost contact.

“No,” Robin says, “but we’re following horror law by being dumb enough to do it. I’d like to see what’s inside.”

“Not you, too, Robin,” Nami groans, staring hard at the ground before she throws her hands up. “Fine! If you _really_ think we’re not going to die horrible deaths the moment we step inside, fucking fine.”

“Maybe Luffy’s in there,” Zoro offers a hesitant silver lining as she catches up to them. 

She scowls. “Forget the bear. If he’s raiding the kitchen, I’m going to kill him myself.”

The porch steps creak under the weight of seven pairs of feet trying and failing to be stealthy. They all freeze as a shadow pauses and then passes by one of the front windows. A large, hairy shadow. 

“Oh my fucking god,” Sanji whispers, voice trembling in either fear or amusement. “You’re kidding me. I feel like I’ve heard this joke before.”

“It’s him!” Franky yell-whispers. “It’s Bigfoot!” 

Robin whips out a Polaroid camera. “It’s time.” 

“No way,” Ace mutters under his breath, over and over again. Before anyone can stop him, he throws the door open and—

Nearly meets the business end of an ax gripped by a large, hairy-knuckled hand. 

Ace freezes mid-step, and so does everyone behind him. Zoro’s gaze trails upward, skimming over broad shoulders as the weapon comes to rest against one, tickled by a veritable bush of hair on the hulking figure’s chin. It barely fits in the doorway.

Chopper’s wheeze ends with a squeak like he’s trying to scream but can’t. He looks ready to faint, and Nami doesn’t seem any better off until the silhouette speaks. 

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting guests,” the— very large, very hairy _man_ says, voice gentle and pleasant. “I was just about to head out. Would you like to come in for some peach cobbler?”

Franky straightens up, pushing past them all to follow the man inside. “Heck yeah, bro!”

Nami sighs, but she still enters the cabin with the rest of them. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about. _He_ would definitely be the first to die.” 

The sensible part of Zoro agrees with her, but the chaotic part he often listens to follows close on Ace’s heels. Entering a strange, well-mannered lumberjack’s cabin in the woods hardly tops the list of things likely to kill him. And if it should, he’s only about six percent aware of it on any level that counts. 

“Dammit. Too good to be true.” The pyromaniac pouts at the lack of Bigfoot.

“What is?” their host asks, guiding them into a cushy living room. “How did you all end up this far into the woods?” 

“W-Well, you see, we sort of—” Chopper’s nerves over being rude seems to override his shyness. "We thought we saw Bigfoot and I'm super sorry if we offended you by thinking that!"

"Oh, no problem at all! And I'm rather flattered to be compared to Fred. Right, Fred?"

A grunt sounds to their right. Something massive, shaggy, and brown hunches into the frame of the open window. Zoro almost mistakes it for a Chewbacca costume until the eyes shutter in a blink too smooth to be fake. A massive, hairy arm hangs over the windowsill, wood creaking under its weight as the creature— as fucking _Bigfoot_ gives them a thumbs up.

Zoro stares, watching muscles shift as its wrist flexes and lowers because _there is no way that shit is fake._ He glances frantically between the window and everyone else. Nami’s eyes are wide, an amber cocktail of shock and disbelief, as Sanji openly gapes beside her. Franky smiles so big it has to hurt his cheeks, shaking Chopper by the shoulder with wild abandon. Ace practically vibrates out of his skin in excitement all on his own.

“Sorry, what?” 

A flash goes off as Robin snaps a picture, mouth open in shock and eyes dazed. “Oh my.” 

The cabin owner nods. "I met him some years ago. Made friends over a bag of Jack Link's jerky."

 _I want to disbelieve this,_ Zoro thinks, _but isn’t that almost exactly how I caught a Luffy?_

“You both just live here?” Ace’s eyes sparkle. “You live with _Bigfoot?”_

“It’s not like we’re hiding. Fred is right there in our Zillow listing.”

Ace frantically pulls out his phone. “That wasn’t fake?!”

Chopper finally pushes Franky off. “So he doesn’t like fruit leather?” 

“Not too much, but I do.” 

Robin’s eyes snap toward him. “Does he like to read?”

“He’s a sucker for Charles Dickens. I read him something of his every so often.” 

Nami looks like she’s containing a scream. “Oh my god.”

“Nope.” Sanji shakes his head and walks out the cabin’s back door. “This never happened. I refuse to believe Usopp was even a little bit right. This is— LUFFY?!” 

_“Oh my god,”_ Nami repeats, crossing the cabin in four huge strides.

They all mob toward the door after her, shoving each other to get outside. 

Luffy waves at them, backlit by a campfire. “Hey! You guys finally caught up!” He lifts the roasting stick in his hand. “Want a hot dog? Fred has plenty.” 

Fred grunts what Zoro assumes is an affirmation.

“Does he have cola, too?” Franky asks, breezing past the fact that Luffy has been casually hanging out with _fucking_ _Bigfoot_ this entire time.

“What the _hell,_ Luffy,” Nami snaps, apparently also _already_ over the supernatural creature in their midst as she launches right into a typical scolding. “You need to stop wandering off!” 

“But— but I smelled meat cooking!” Luffy gestures helplessly at Fred, who’s steadily roasting an intricately kabobbed chain of sausage links. “And I found Fred!”

“I wouldn’t give a shit if you found the _Tooth Fairy.”_ She narrows her eyes, twice as terrifying in the eerie glow of the fire. “You get one more chance before we start using the bell necklace again.”

“No! It’s so itchy!”

“Then you know how I feel. Emotionally. You give me emotional fucking hives.”

“See, now, _this?_ ” Sanji gestures at the weirdly domestic picture of Luffy and fucking _Fred_ sharing a table of snacks in front of the fire. “This shit I can believe more than Usopp.” He flicks his lighter open and starts a new cigarette. “Because Luffy consistently brings this kind of insanity to my life.” 

Fred grunts again, but it’s almost— annoyed? He stands from his lawn chair, although “chair” is pushing it when it’s about the size of a fucking bench.

Sanji freezes mid-smoke as the Sasquatch lumbers toward him, eye wider than a dinner plate. “Help,” he hisses at Nami, who shakes her head about fifty times to stress how much she _will not_ be doing that.

Fred daintily pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, crushing it in his rough, leathery palm. It sizzles, letting off faint smoke. Fred makes no indication it hurt in the slightest.

“Uh.” Sanji balks. “Wha—”

Fred goes in for the kill, stuffing an _entire_ raw hotdog into his open mouth. Sanji chokes, his muffled yell covered by Nami’s shriek as she yanks it out, throwing the meat to the ground. Fred whines sadly, slinking back toward the fire.

Zoro feels a tickle in the back of his throat, chest tightening with the effort of holding back. A sound bursts out of him that he has _never_ heard himself make, echoing past the tree-line as he doubles over. It is by far the loudest, ugliest, most genuine laugh that’s ever left him. His abs clench painfully, going on long enough to feel strange, but he _can’t stop._ Luffy was fucking right. This _is_ fun.

Ace wheezes, rolling on the ground _._ “Holy shit. This has been a—” he chokes on his laughter, an aggressive snort ripping from his nose “—a PSA. Bigfoot says don’t smoke!”

“I love an entity with brains,” Robin says, staring fondly, camera hanging forgotten around her neck. 

Franky takes a seat right next to Fred, lifting his phone. “Selfie?” 

Fred makes a peace sign, and Robin squeals _oh my god_ impressively high for how quiet it is. Zoro has no idea what the fuck is even happening anymore. Sanji looks similarly flabbergasted and sufficiently traumatized. 

When he lowers his phone, Franky shouts, “Super!” and Fred jerks away at the sheer volume. “Let’s play a game, bro. I’ll name a cryptid or spooky thing and you tell me if it exists. One grunt for yes, two means no.” 

A deep rumble leaves Fred, which Franky seems to take as the green light. 

“Mothman?” 

One grunt. Zoro glances at Sanji out of the corner of his eye because he’s the only one who looks as freaked out as he feels.

“Wendigo.” 

One grunt. Sanji glances back, alarmed, and Zoro doesn’t know what a Wendigo is but it’s nothing pleasant gauging from _that_ reaction. 

“Ghosts.”

One grunt. Their eyes lock, ears still tuned to Franky’s interrogation. 

_What the fuck?_ Sanji mouths at him, weirdly candid and non-hostile as he gestures toward the fire. 

“This is the best night of my life,” Ace says, bounding over to sit directly on Luffy, who squawks as his roasting stick is displaced. “Hey! Are skinwalkers real?”

The cabin owner chuckles, turning around. “I’ll go get more chairs, I suppose.” 

One grunt. Zoro shakes his head at Sanji, stomach somersaulting toward his toes. He does not like the sound of whatever the hell _that_ is. 

“D-demons?” Chopper asks. 

One grunt. 

Chopper’s face loses all color. Nami latches onto Robin like a sloth to a tree, who wraps her arms around her in return. Zoro’s not sure whether it’s fully terror because they also look halfway ecstatic. 

Fuck. The rest of the creatures and myths the others mention don’t register because he’s so clueless it’s not even funny. What kind of terrible, cthulhu can of worms have they opened here? 

At the same time, a thrill shoots down his spine. Something fearful yet excited. His life is already so goddamn messed up and weird, he might as well spice things up with the paranormal kind of fuckery.

It’s almost comforting, in a twisted way. Sure, these things might try to eat him in the night, but it’s a new set of tricks from a universe he’d thought didn’t care enough to create a class of beings on par with Alvida. 

“I brought the peach cobbler as well,” says the man he _still_ doesn’t know by name, and at this point is too scared to ask. 

Hell, he doesn’t even know how he carried all those chairs out here without any of them noticing.

He hangs back slightly as the others rush into place, Sanji again fighting to sit beside Nami. Robin silently, pointedly smushes the legs of her chair into the spot he wants, cocking her head innocently and tapping at her ankle when Sanji tries to protest. He tentatively sets his chair next to hers, though he relaxes with a sheepish grin when she gives him a soft pat on the head, fingers skimming through his bangs. 

Franky pulls Chopper onto his lap, explaining complicated mechanics to Fred at the speed of light. The smaller boy openly ogles the myth come alive, mouth ajar while he tries to subtly poke him. Ace scoots as close as he physically can to the fire without matching the hot dog he’s roasting to ash. Luffy’s teeth glint against the firelight, head thrown back in laughter when Ace stabs the stick downward, splitting wood and making the group scream with a flurry of stray embers.

 _This is fine,_ he thinks, watching them. Looking around the ring of chairs forming around the fire, smoke rising toward the stars with their voices. For once, _fine_ actually feels true. 

He takes a breath and moves closer, realizing with a start that they’ve very obviously left two spots open. One for him and, perhaps subconsciously, the other for Usopp.

Zoro tries not to smile. 

He parks his ass in a folding chair, scarfs down four squares of peach cobbler while Nami screams at Ace to stop adding more lighter fluid, and it’s somehow the _most_ normal he’s felt in a long time. 

Bigfoot yeeting Sanji’s entire pack of cigarettes into a tree is the cherry on top of his supernatural-flavored night.

* * *

“Usopp! Usopp!” Chopper yells, doing a weird little skip-run in excitement as they draw near Merry. 

Zoro half expects him to fall right on his face, and no, he does _not_ reach out a hand to yank him back before awkwardly aborting the movement. No one can prove anything. 

Usopp jumps out of the van, still decked out in his ridiculous safety gear. “Why are we screaming?”

“We met him! We met Fred!

“Fred?”

“Bigfoot! Actual Sasquatch, bro!” Franky shouts, rushing over to shake him like a ragdoll, causing Usopp’s helmet to slide and strangle him by the chin-strap. “Oh, damn, sorry.”

“Just as I planned,” Robin murmurs, and Zoro can’t handle the implications of that statement at all, but nobody else seems to hear it. 

“Sanji got rawed by him!” Ace shouts. 

_“Ace.”_ Nami cringes with her entire body, bumping into Robin in the process, who quickly steadies her as her blue eyes glitter with amusement. 

Something in Zoro curls up and _dies_ out of pure disgust. “That does _not_ mean what you think it does.”

“Thanks, Ace,” Sanji says, “I fucking hate it.”

Usopp snorts. “Sorry to interrupt Sanji getting rawed, but—”

“Stop saying it!” Chopper cries, pointlessly covering his eyes and slumping into Zoro’s side.

Zoro tenses, shifting out of the way. Once again, he ignores whatever face Chopper makes at him as he stumbles without his support. _It’s for the best,_ he chants in his head, _it’s for the goddamn best..._

“Fine!” Usopp starts to walk back toward Merry. “I was just trying to demonstrate how ridiculous you guys sound trying to prank me. I get it. It was a bust as usual! I’m ready to sleep.” 

Nobody follows after him.

Nami puts her hands on her hips. “It’s not a prank! Luffy got lost again and... well, found Fred.”

Usopp seems to realize the lack of footsteps behind him, wandering back over. “Even you, Nami? Really?”

“Okay,” Ace says, “so maybe Sanji didn’t get rawed—”

Chopper shrieks, plugging his ears this time, and Franky pulls him closer with a snicker.

“—but we still totally met Bigfoot!”

Luffy nods enthusiastically. “Robin even has a picture!” 

“Oh, yes.” She fumbles with her sweater pockets for a moment, pulling the slip of evidence out and handing it to Usopp.

He squints at it, brow scrunching in confusion as he slowly gives it back to her. “That’s a nice... window?” 

Robin holds it up and studies it for a long moment, expression dimming the longer she stares. By the time she finally lowers her arm, she looks like she wants to cry. So does everyone else. Zoro might, too, because seriously? After all of that, they came back with _nothing?_

“I may have left it on the wrong setting.” 

“Sure you did.” Usopp pats her shoulder. “Gold star for effort, but the prank is over.” 

Luffy _is_ crying now. “Why didn’t you take pictures when we were roasting hotdogs with him?!”

“You roasted—” Usopp crosses his arms. “Okay, now I _know_ you’re messing with me.” 

Franky holds up his phone. “Still have that selfie! And I’m pretty sure I got a short video.”

A chorus of garbled, “Let me see!” breaks out as they huddle around Franky. Usopp reluctantly joins them, rolling his eyes.

Zoro holds his breath as Franky hits play. The smallest blip of the campfire shows through for two seconds, but it’s replaced by inexplicable static, like fuzz on a TV flipped to the wrong channel. 

“What the _fuck,_ guys?” Ace huffs, still staring at the screen as the rest of them fan out and groan in frustration.

“HOW?!” Franky exits the video and scrolls pointlessly through his camera roll. “I checked this like five minutes ago! Even the selfie is gone!” 

Ace laughs, but it's bitter. “How much do you wanna bet the entire cabin will be gone if we try to find it again?” 

“You guys can’t just steal my material and expect me to buy it,” Usopp says. “At least be original.” 

Zoro lobs a tiny pine cone at his helmet. “Fucking _die.”_

Usopp squeals and flails as if it knocked him off balance because he’s a dramatic little shit. 

“Goddammit, this is stupid!” Luffy yells, plunking down on the ground with arms and legs both crossed. “Ow,” he sniffles, pulling something out from underneath him, “this twig is sharp.”

Zoro reflexively helps him up when he reaches a hand toward him, scowling at the space in front of him. He’s not sure why he cares so much that their plans fell through. He didn’t give a flying fuck when they _first_ mentioned cryptid hunting, but— 

“You’re _fucking_ kidding me,” Sanji spits. “I did not get _violated_ by that asshole and walk away with nothing to prove this shit!”

Disgustingly, Zoro can’t agree more. 

Franky lifts his head, staring into the distance. “One can never truly capture the supernatural.”

“At least we have Fred in our memories?” Chopper offers, ever the optimist.

“Yeah. Okay. You’re all very convincingly angry.” Usopp laughs. “Pro tip: Next time you should do some spooky voiceovers to really sell it! Have Sanji do his Bigfoot yodel.”

Everyone glares daggers at him.

“So, let me get this straight,” Sanji says, slowly turning toward him. “We’re supposed to believe that you, the borderline pathological liar, met Bigfoot, but you won’t believe that we _actually_ fucking did?”

Usopp shrugs. “You guys aren’t equipped to handle such an encounter.”

“That’s what I thought.” His smile is deadly. “Hold still, motherfucker.”

This time, Sanji tackles _him_ into the wilderness. 

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they’re back on the road, well on their way to a hotel for what’s left of the night.

“Wait,” Ace says, daring to break the sullen mood, “do you think that guy was dating Bigfoot?”

Everyone gives him a _look._ Including Zoro, which is— something he won’t analyze. He’s not _that_ in sync with them. It’s been two goddamn days. 

“Is it _impossible?”_ Ace presses more vehemently, then gestures at Franky. “Is that not what Chopper is doing?”

“Fuck you,” Chopper says, and the entire van collectively gasps. 

“Such language!” Usopp shakes his head. “We’ve pushed him too far. I need ear-censors.” 

"Don't bleep out the fucks,” Sanji advises. “The fucks must be openly expressed unless you have no fucks to give, in which case you should store your fucks in the Fuck Jar for another, more fuckable time."

Zoro grins and hypocritically jokes, “Swearing is unattractive.”

“I’m unattractive anyway, so fuck off.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Wow, did we switch attitudes?”

“Bit off your own tongue, Marimo.”

“You first.”

“No, _you—”_

Nami groans. “I swear you revert into overly crass five-year-olds around each other.” She scribbles something on the notebook in her lap. “Putting you two down as ‘Never allowed to share a room unless I want to mop up blood in the morning.’”

Zoro inclines his head in agreement. “Smart call.” 

“Who wants to pair with who? One room has to be a threesome.”

Sanji sits at attention. “Might I suggest you, me, and Robin?”

“Hell no,” she growls, “you giant pervert. I call dibs on Robin anyway and that’s how it’ll always be.”

Robin covers her mouth with her palm, and Zoro catches a hint of a rare grin when she lowers it to suggest, “I vote Sanji, Usopp—”

“Hey, no!” their driver protests. 

“—and Ace.”

“NO!” Usopp honks the horn, like an asshole, starting a chain of honks in the middle of traffic because the highway is a mobile convention of assholes. “Why are you trying to get me murdered in my sleep?”

Sanji and Ace turn to each other.

“Eyebrows?”

Ace nods. “Eyebrows.” 

“Hey, what the _fuck_ does that mean?!”

Nami writes it down. “Sounds good to me.”

“What happened to the rest of the votes?!”

“Robin’s is the only one that matters. Next?” She glances over her shoulder, ignoring Usopp’s sniveling beside her. “Chopper?”

“I don’t know,” he hums. “I guess Franky, b-but I also kind of wanted to sometimes share with Zoro, so—”

“No.” 

An oppressive silence sweeps through Merry. 

Oh. Oh, shit. He said that _out loud._ Zoro cringes inwardly at the gut-punched look of _hurt_ on Chopper’s face. There really is no way to unfuck this up now.

 _“Awk_ ward,” Sanji quietly sing-songs.

Zoro kicks him in the shin. “Shut up. I mean— I’m sharing with Luffy. He already said he wanted to.”

Like sharing with Luffy is any better. Like sharing with _anyone_ is any good at all. It might be worse because _he_ barrels through Zoro’s walls without even trying. At least Chopper is easier to get to back off.

Luffy tilts his head. “I did?” 

Jesus fucking christ, Zoro’s going to jump out of the van again. “Yeah, when—” he gulps, taking a shot in the dark at how gullible Luffy is. “When you were talking about Bigfoot, remember?”

A long pause ensues, but then Luffy nods. “Sounds right. I do want to share with Zoro anyway if Ace is taken! We can request fun things from room service, like a bathtub full of goat milk!” 

“Send them a picture of you,” Ace says, “and ask them to photoshop you into the family you’ve never had.”

Franky squints at him. “Are you okay, bro?”

Nami marks it down, not batting an eye. “Okay, all settled then.”

Between Chopper’s sad expression and everyone else’s excited chatter, Zoro remembers just how far out of his depth he is. It disgusts him how much he wants to go back to an hour ago. Back to smiling and bickering and sitting around the campfire, his chest tight with the opposite of dread for once. 

He remembers, now, why he shouldn’t try. 

* * *

“Oh my god, cabin man was the one getting rawed, not Sanji!”

Chopper sighs. “I give up.”

“Usopp,” Sanji says, “forget the eyebrows. If you want to smother him in his sleep tonight, I’ll help you _so_ fucking hard.”

“...Thank god. But, also, why did you have to say it like _that?_ I think my chest fluttered a little.” 

Sanji covers his face with both hands, voice strangled. “Stop before I change my mind.” 

“Right, okay, sorry. I like my eyebrows.”

Zoro groans toward the ceiling. "Are we fucking there yet?" 


	7. The Hidden Psychology of Doritos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions boil over and Zoro muddles through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know I'm like two whole weeks late. But that is a goddamn miracle considering the last WIP I got stuck on, I abandoned entirely. We're here, we're queer, bopping to angsty chaos! And I bow to dear, sweet Rae, who leaves me god-tier comments and also offered to help me get out of my writer's block hidey-hole. She clearly succeeded. (Thank you, I love you, here is chapter 7 even though you've already read it...) Onto the drama, friends.

He fades into consciousness already convinced that waking up next to Luffy will be just as awkward as going to bed had been. He’d stalled as long as possible while moving Susan into their room, but he could only give them so many treats before feeling like he might accidentally kill them. 

(“Zoro, they’re going to explode. Just get in! I won’t bite _you.”_

“That’s not as comforting as you think it is.”) 

He can hear the other shuffling around, already awake and likely messing with his phone. He tries to check the time, but the clock is frozen at 4:32pm, like it was yesterday. Zoro sighs. 

“Wha’ fuckin’ time ‘s it?” he slurs, rolling over to look at Luffy, and promptly freezes. “What... the fuck.” 

His head dips back in a cackle, digging into the pillow as he shakes the entire bed with the force of his laughter. 

Luffy cocks his head to the side in silent question, leaning on his bent elbow, and it just makes it _worse._

“You—” he gasps, air abandoning him in his hysterics. “You look like you got attacked by a lawnmower. Your fucking _hair.”_

“Huh?” Luffy tilts his head back the other way, causing a chunk of strands to defy gravity even more. He shakes it a bit and the cowlicks created by his pillow bounce in place, exposing bald patches where the hair refuses to sit after being shoved upward all night. 

“Stop! Holy fuck, s-stop _moving!”_ Zoro can’t breathe. He’d had no idea amusement could steal his breath just as well as fear, but it’s happened twice now. And, hell, it’s a discovery he prefers. 

Luffy laughs along, eyes scrunched and choppy hair flying every which way. Tired of being propped on his elbow, he flops back down, shaggy head lying close to Zoro’s shoulder. 

“What, Zoro’s hair doesn’t do this?” 

Okay, they’re using third person, apparently. Zoro would play along, except it’s too early for his brain to figure that shit out. It seems to be flipped for Luffy, coming naturally and almost subconsciously first thing in the morning. “It’s almost always been too short to look like I got mauled.” 

Luffy gasps, like this is a crime. “Why? Zoro would look so cool with longer hair!” 

“Uh—” He fidgets, nails digging into his stomach, and blurts without thinking, “I wanted people to stop pulling it.” 

It doesn’t fully stop her now, but—

 _She manages to get a full fist of his hair, grip tight and painful enough that he_ screams _as she yanks him back. In the hallway mirror’s reflection, he sees the tufts of green sticking up through her fingers and razors them off in his mind, because maybe if they weren’t there—_

He’s never dared to go shorter than an inch, either, not after the first time he completely buzzed it and she went bat-shit crazy.

Fingers brush through it in the present, and Zoro shudders, unable to flinch back after remembering how much it _pulled_ when he did. Because there’s always this possessive _mine, it’s_ mine, _I’ll close my fingers to prove it._ He doesn’t know how to say _stop_ because Luffy’s fingertips offer casual pressure, and it’s vaguely— nice. It doesn’t hurt, he hasn’t even come close to gripping it, but it still makes him want to scream. 

Except— Luffy’s different, right? At least a little bit. He’s more handsy than Zoro can deal with in the best moments, but he has yet to push it too far. Chest squeezing, he chances tilting his head just slightly more out of Luffy’s reach, terrified he’ll be wrong and then he’s going to react like a fucking _freak._

Luffy doesn’t chase him. He just laughs and pokes Zoro’s nose before he slumps back down to cuddle his shoulder. “Hmm. I’ll break all their toes if they pull it. Gah, it’d just be so _cool!”_

Zoro blinks at the nest of raven hair pushing toward his chest like a needy cat. He sighs, tension slowly uncoiling the longer they lie there and the world doesn’t implode because he let someone touch his hair.

“We’ll see.” 

And, terrifyingly, he means it. He might do it just to make Luffy happy. He probably won’t be able to cut it during the trip anyway. 

Zoro rolls his eyes at himself. _That’s your worst excuse yet._

* * *

Breakfast is definitely worse. 

Four days in and, somehow, he’s already managed to fuck up bad enough that Chopper won’t talk to him. He skirts around him as they fill their plates, not looking at him. Their fingers brush when reaching for the same pair of tongs, and Chopper flinches back like he’s been electrocuted. Zoro writes it off as them both being half asleep and easily startled, refusing to think deeply on why it feels like he just got punched in the gut. 

“You can go first,” he says. 

Chopper nods, eyes fixed on the pans of food as he shakily grabs the tongs again. 

From the height of bubbly chatter and loud laughter, it’s a sharp nose-dive into polite hums and slight acknowledgements. The civility of a customer service worker to a snippy soccer mom. 

At some point, the _I’ll bite your hand off_ vibe stops Zoro from initiating conversation at all, and it’s— great. 

It’s perfect. 

This is what he wants. 

Even better, maybe Chopper is the first to catch on to how idiotic the idea of being friends with him is. Maybe he’s supremely impatient and has _already_ gotten tired of waiting for a crack in the door. For Zoro to expose even a fraction as much of himself as Chopper has. 

So, yeah, it’s all fan-fucking-tastic. He just didn’t expect the cord to be severed so suddenly.

It would be easy to stop thinking about it if it were really so cut and dry and Chopper was just angry. But he seems seconds away from bursting into tears every time their eyes meet. Zoro doesn’t know what to do with any of that, so he staunchly refuses to look at him for too long. 

He hopes whoever thought it was a good idea to pair them off for grocery shopping this weekend burns in hell. 

(It was Franky. It had to be. The giant has been sending puppy-dog eyes between him and Chopper, back and forth, silently begging them to talk.) 

Protesting the trip does no good. 

“The store is just down the street, and it’s a short list. You don’t even need the van!”

Nami simply hands him the list and shoves them out the door. 

The walk there is nothing less than agonizingly awkward. Chopper stares at him almost the entire way. He tries to be sneaky about it, glancing away when Zoro’s about to catch him, but he’s well-acquainted with stare-burn. 

This continues well into their time shopping, with the small reprieve of Chopper silently passing him things on the list and crossing them off. The other boy is careful not to brush fingers with him, which hurts way more than he’ll ever admit. Because, fuck, _of course_ it’s been intentional. It echoes the worst of himself back at him. Makes him feel like— like Chopper _knows._ Or at least listens to the rumors enough to think he’s as fucking dirty as they say. 

Eventually, Zoro has enough. Because he’s _trying_ here, at least a little, and he doesn’t think he deserves this. He deserves a lot of things, not many of them good, but he thought Chopper might turn out to be one. Because they _invited him._ Because Chopper all but voted in his favor and said he _might not be that bad._ Maybe Zoro’s the stupid one for believing he meant it, or thinking someone could look past how much of a slut he is. Even if it’s true, Zoro has never been one to hold his tongue, not even with Alvida breathing down his neck. 

They're in the middle of the cereal aisle when he asks, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Ah, yes. He nearly forgot he has all the tact and subtlety of a sledgehammer to the forehead. This fact glares at him, garishly neon, as Chopper stops dead and about-faces. 

His eyes widen, but finally the smaller boy speaks, “What’s wrong with _me?”_

“Why are you giving me the cold shoulder?” 

Somehow, Chopper manages to look twice as confused. “I’m giving _you_ the cold shoulder?” 

“Yes!” He throws his hands up. “Stop repeating everything I say.” 

“You’re the one treating me like I have the plague!” 

Every thought in his head stalls. “No,” he denies on reflex. “I am fucking not.”

“Yes, you are! You've been treating me like...” Chopper trails off, then spits, “like _they_ did.” 

Zoro gapes at him. “That’s bullshit. You know that’s not true.” 

“Isn’t it?” Chopper accuses, raising his voice. “Then why did you refuse to share a room? You’ve barely said a word to me since we left! You won’t even _look_ at me. You won’t— you don’t want me to touch you anymore! Maybe you haven’t said so, but you freeze up the second I go near you. Just like all those kids used to.”

“That’s not true.” The quiver in his voice makes the statement less than convincing. He’s lying through his fucking teeth and he knows it. 

Still, Chopper pauses, seeming to give it some thought, then inclines his head. “You’re right.”

Zoro barely stops himself from sighing in relief. “Exactly, so why—”

“This is different. This is _worse!”_ Chopper shouts, sounding angry and sad and fucking wrecked. “What you’re doing is so, _so_ much worse than what they did because I— _I told you.”_

The betrayed edge to the words stabs Zoro directly in the heart. It’s all spinning out of his control so goddamn fast. “Wait, I was just—”

He shakes his head, bottom lip trembling. “No, it’s my fault for assuming. I thought you didn’t care! I thought you _liked me,_ even.” He scoffs, tears spilling over with a blink. “Joke’s on me, I guess. Again. I don’t know how I forgot there are other ways to show disgust than violence.” 

_Disgust._ The word claws into him. _He thinks I’m disgusted by him._

Zoro’s brain feels like it’s vibrating in his skull, sheer horror shaking loose what little composure he has left. _“Holy shit,_ shut the _fuck_ up!” 

It comes out far more menacing than he intends. Chopper squeaks and flinches away from him. “I’m sorry!” 

Jesus, he’s going to be sick.

“No, just—” Zoro takes a deep breath, covering his face with his hands. “NO. Pause, okay?” 

This is fine, he tells himself. Totally fine. Having a breakdown next to a box of cornflakes, where anyone can hear this conversation, is a standard he can accept. It’s small potatoes considering Chopper thinks Zoro _finds him disgusting._ That’s wrong. That’s _backwards._

“But—” Chopper starts, sniffling miserably, but he freezes with a glance past Zoro. “Okay, yeah. Let’s not do this here.”

He looks back over his shoulder to glare at a small crowd of people gathering at the end of the aisle. Honestly, it’s a bit fucking late to be saying that but Zoro only nods in answer and gestures onward. “Two items left, right?”

“Yeah.” Chopper checks again, then squints and tilts his head. “Chips and... a will to live?”

Zoro blinks, word-vomiting, “Holy shit, where can _I_ get one of those?” 

“Same,” Chopper says, seemingly on reflex, as he immediately backtracks. “Wait, that’s really dark.“

“I hope they have a buy one get one deal,” Zoro says, half for the fun of it and half to dissuade him from rushing to end their friendship.

“I doubt it.”

He gasps, locking eyes with the other boy. “Or maybe it’s give one to get one. You might be out of luck from my end.” 

A startled laugh bursts out of Chopper, loud and ugly, though he tries to cover it with a palm over his mouth. “Oh my god,” he groans, managing to smile and grimace all at once. “That’s not funny, Zoro.” 

“Then why are you laughing?” 

“It’s so morbid.”

“Welcome to my sense of humor.” 

Chopper rolls his eyes and tears up the list. “Let’s go get the chips.” 

They snag two bags of Doritos and head to check out, placing their small collection of items on the conveyor belt. Chopper has gone back to not looking at him, and pays the cashier with hardly a smile, bubbly attitude absent. Zoro takes the bags in one hand, sighing. 

Halfway to the hotel, Chopper growls in frustration, freezing in place before they pass a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop. He snags Zoro’s wrist as he tries to go by. His eyes dart to the contact, widening in shock at his own boldness. “Sorry, but I...”

Zoro feels his hold loosen and claps a hand over his to keep it there. To keep Chopper from slipping away. He still can’t quite meet his eyes, but he knows by the squeeze to his wrist that Chopper must look determined as hell. 

“We’re stopping here.” 

He nods, hearing the unspoken _we’re not leaving until we fix this,_ and lets the other boy tug him into the coffee shop. Staring at the menu, a whole five minutes crawl by, and Zoro can’t pick a drink. The choices jumble together in his head, kicking up a whole lot of nothing, and he just— he fucking _can’t._ He’s going to choose wrong. 

A feeling of absolute incompetence slams into him and finally Zoro blurts, “Fuck it. I’ll just take whatever you’re getting.”

Brow furrowing, but no comment forthcoming, Chopper stutters out their order. Zoro doesn’t even really hear it, as he beelines toward a table in the back corner and dumps their shopping bags in an empty chair neither of them will use. The other boy silently settles into the chair across from him, hands wringing on the table.

“I wonder,” Chopper says after a few minutes, apropos of nothing, “if we should’ve gotten some cool ranch Doritos, too.” 

“That’s bullshit.” 

“Huh?”

They both jump as Chopper’s name is called and he hurries to the counter with a sheepish smile. 

By the time he gets back, Zoro has had enough time to stew in his weird mood and come up with some crap that makes as much sense as it doesn’t. “Y’know, I’m kinda like cool ranch Doritos.” He shrugs at the bewildered stare he receives. “Nobody actually fucking likes ‘em, even the people that say they do, so... what’s even the point?”

“Oh, wow.” Chopper sucks in a sharp breath, lip caught in his teeth until he exhales. “I’m trying not to laugh at you comparing yourself to a Dorito because that last thing sounds like a serious problem.”

Zoro takes a sip of his coffee and flinches, fighting not to do a spit-take. It’s fucking horrific. He is literally downing a cup full of liquidized sugar packets right now. He sighs. This is what he gets for being an indecisive disaster. 

“I’m not disgusted by you. Fucking trust me on that, at least. This has nothing to do with you being trans.”

Chopper blinks, absorbing the new topic of conversation. After a moment, he wrinkles his nose. “Then why were you acting like that?”

“Because I’m not a good friend, Chopper. I’m a piece of shit,” Zoro says, then squints at the drink in his hand. Shitty coffee must be truth serum, _holy shit._

Oh well. There’s really no hope of climbing out of this hole now. 

“That’s not true!”

“No. You said it yourself earlier.”

Chopper winces, hiding behind his cup as much as possible. “I was just mad.”

“I made you scream at me in the middle of a grocery store.” Zoro slams his cup onto the table. “I made you fucking _cry.”_

“I’d like to point out that I’m a serial crybaby.” 

He scoffs. “You are not.”

“How would you know? You barely know me!”

“Exactly!” Zoro leans forward, face pinching together in annoyance. “We’re practically strangers, so why the hell are you defending me?”

“Because you were trying! I could tell. And now you’re just— you’re _not.”_

“It’s—” He sighs, drumming his fingers on the table as he looks away and decides to be honest once again. “It’s so much easier not to try.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, Chopper. Here, with you. With everyone. It’s—” He gestures helplessly, erratic in a way that honestly encapsulates how out of his depth he is. “I don’t know what to _do.”_

Because this was the plan, but it _wasn’t._ Get away from Alvida? Sounds like a fucking party. Actually care about being a dick to any of the people on this trip? Sounds fake, except the sad pout Chopper wears makes him want to drop to his knees and grovel. 

So, yeah. Fuck all of this, times fifty. 

Zoro sighs. "At the risk of sounding like some terrible teen romance comedy, it's not you, it's me."

Chopper gives him a blank look and he feels like he has to explain that a bit more.

"You were being, I dunno, conscientious, or something, and not touching me. So I thought it was because _you_ thought—” And he doesn't know how to say what he thought Chopper had thought, because his throat closes abruptly. The words stick to his tongue when he tries to spit them out, thick and bitter.

He tries to drown himself in his coffee. Or wash away the terrible taste in his mouth.

Either one.

“Zoro, you—” Chopper’s voice breaks off, and god, he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he starts crying again. “You know I don’t care what everyone at school says, right? They’re always talking. Lying. About me, and— _all_ of us, so just know that I don’t listen to them.”

 _But you should,_ Zoro almost blurts. _This is me, not you, not all of it is a lie._ He’s willing to let Chopper live in ignorance, though. “I still don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“Maybe you’re overthinking it. Why not just let it go?”

“Huh?”

“Just let whatever happens... happen, you know?” Chopper shrugs. “Or at least try that.”

Zoro tilts his head, then slowly nods after a moment. “I think I can do that.” He winces, tries something closer to believable. “I think I can try.”

He’s been letting shit happen to him his whole life, after all. Alvida’s favorite little doormat that gives her the occasional splinter. 

A group of misfits couldn’t be any worse, right?

He stares holes into the table for fuck knows how long, then blurts out of nowhere, “This coffee is terrible, by the way.” He takes another drink anyway.

Just as awkwardly, Chopper fiddles with his own cup. “I kind of figured. I don’t know if you know what your face looked like when you took a drink, but it was definitely… a thing.”

“Right. Well, thanks for not mentioning it.”

Chopper, sweet, shy Chopper, looks up at that and gives Zoro the most deadpan expression he’s seen yet. _‘Priorities?’_ he asks without ever opening his mouth.

Zoro snorts terrible coffee up his nose, chokes, and coughs as Chopper lunges to get him napkins because he’s a walking disaster, even while seated.

They’re both kind of laughing, though. So.

Success?

Maybe he can try this friendship thing again, after all.

* * *

“I assume we’re taking the scenic route back,” Zoro says as they walk, “since it definitely didn’t take this long to get to the store earlier.”

He has no idea where the hotel is himself, because if he’s directionally challenged in their home state, there’s not a hope in hell of him finding his way back in even more unfamiliar territory. 

Chopper wrinkles his nose. “I’m kind of putting off Franky poking fun and being all _‘was that so hard?’_ about us making up.” He sighs fondly. “I guess I should thank him anyway.” 

“Of course.” Zoro snorts, shaking his head. He fucking knew the bastard was meddling. He’s equal parts annoyed and grateful too. 

He stares at the weeds sprouting from cracks in the sidewalk, content to walk aimlessly in comfortable silence, but Chopper’s gasp stops him. He turns around, inquiry dying on his tongue as he stares at the store’s sign. 

_WILL TO WILL._

They look at each other, eyes wide.

“No way in—” 

“It can’t _possibly_ be—”

Chopper pulls out a fluffy coin purse, and Zoro refrains from cooing because _what the fuck._ Fine, it’s adorable and he kind of wants to squish it, but it’s not _that_ adorable. It elicits the same _melt or fight_ response Chopper himself does, which is stupid, but not the weirdest thing he’s felt for an inanimate object. 

He leans closer and peers into it, mirroring Chopper’s frown. There’s about three pennies and a fuck ton of m&m’s swimming around. The change is in a plastic bag, not the candy. Zoro doesn’t ask. 

“I don’t think we have enough to buy a whole store?” 

The harsher lines in Chopper’s face break with a laugh. “Probably not. Maybe we should go check if they sell any wills to live inside.” 

Zoro stares at the building, slowly nodding as the other boy stuffs the pouch back in his pocket. “Okay.

“Wait, what?”

“I’m gonna do it.” He yanks the door open with a sharp grin. A tangle of strung up bells jingles on the inside handle, announcing their entry. 

_“Wait,”_ Chopper protests, though he’s still following right on his heels, “I was kidding!” 

“Were you?”

“Half-kidding, but still!”

Now that he’s marginally okay with the whole _friendship can be good_ aspect of this, doing the things Chopper is too scared to do doesn’t seem like a bad idea. He walks straight toward the counter, passing heaps of random shit. Everything looks second-hand, used and abused to various degrees, but mostly intact. 

“Zoro—” Chopper hisses, hurrying after him. “This is so unnecessary, don’t bother them!”

“I’m just asking a simple question.” 

“You’re asking an existential question, which isn’t simple at all, so—”

Before Chopper can talk him out of it, he reaches the counter. The other boy goes silent with a slight squeak, glaring mildly at Zoro. He waits for the employee to look their way, poking at the keychains fixed to a turntable beside the register. 

Finally, they look up. “Can I help you?”

“Don’t know.” Zoro shrugs, then raises an eyebrow. “Do you have the will to live?” 

Horrible, uncomfortable silence. Chopper’s entire face goes red and he looks like he wants to sink into the floor. 

“Like,  _ me,” _ they point at themselves, brow scrunched, “personally? ...Is this a stick-up? That feels like a stick-up question.”

“No. Do you sell them? This is a will store, isn’t it? Do you have any?”

Another long pause scrapes by as they stare at each other. Eventually, the employee shrugs, gesturing toward the deformed, stained crotchet-doll in Zoro’s hand. “Is that keychain close enough?”

He squints into its horrifying little button eyes, ratty strings frayed and sticking out at odd angles, chunks missing from the outfit’s fabric like it’s been mauled by a dog at least three times. “I dunno.” He lifts it off the turning stand and holds it up to the light. He blinks and swears it blinks back. “Is it fucking cursed?” 

“Maybe.” Another shrug, and they glance backward at a glass case full of creepy bird toys behind the register. “The Furbies definitely are. We keep them here because I keep finding them in the breakroom. Doesn’t really stop them, but we try.” 

Zoro nods, turning to his gaping friend. “You want a Furby?”

Chopper frantically shakes his head. “Ohmygod, _no,_ I want to _leave.”_

He puts the keychain back on the counter. “Just this, then.”

 _“Zoro,”_ Chopper groans after the employee rings them up, staring balefully at the group’s newest addition. “I hate that. I hate that so much, Zoro, why did you _buy_ that?”

“I’m taking your advice and trying,” he claims, amused by Chopper’s borderline sneer of disgust as he holds the door open for him. “It’s gonna help with all our supernatural shit!”

Plus, this is basically the exact opposite of Chopper’s adorable coin purse. Zoro finds balance where he can. 

“You just spent a dollar to be cursed.” 

“So fucking what? My life is a curse, and I got that shit for free.”

“No, I really think it cost your sanity.” 

He’s right, but— 

“Holy shit, who _are_ you? That’s fucked up.” His chest feels like a puddle of goo, delighted by Chopper’s comfort with making darker jokes in a way he’s never heard before. “You have a mean streak, don’t you?”

He rolls his eyes. “So, what are we naming it?”

“You want to _name_ the curse? I’m not too familiar with this shit, but doesn’t that give it more power?” 

“In for a penny, in for a pound.”

They pause along the sidewalk and stare hard at the tiny doll, squinting in the midday sun. 

“Mariana?” Zoro blurts, uncertain only verbally, because he’s never been more sure about anything in his entire life. 

“That was fast. Why?” 

“I think she... told me.” He cocks his head. “With cursed doll waves.” 

“I regret this so much already.”

Zoro shrugs, pocketing her, and they go on their way. 

They pass a dozen more shops, from tattoo parlors to mini-libraries. Boutiques crop up every other shop, various clothing styles displayed on charmingly headless mannequins in their windows. He walks fully past one such shop before realizing he no longer hears the slight scuffing of Chopper’s shoes behind him. Swiveling around, the beginnings of panic dim as he finds the other lagging just a few feet back, gaze fixed on whatever he’s come to a dead stop in front of. 

Zoro wanders back to his side and stares in turn, taking in the bright colors before anything else. It’s— lolita shit? He’s not sure how else to describe it. 

He tracks Chopper’s gaze to the third outfit, a burgundy dress with extravagant ruffles, skirt poofy and waist cinched using a massive silk ribbon. Something in his chest stutters, disquieted, but he shakes it off before he can begin to identify why. Peripherally, he catches the way Chopper fidgets, hands twisting the bottom hem of his oversized shirt. Just as he’s about to say something—

“I used to wear stuff like that,” Chopper whispers, lips drawn in a thin line. 

Completely against his will, without a single brain-cell even aware of what he’s saying, Zoro blurts, “Me, too.”

His tongue turns to ash in his mouth before he can make it worse, cheeks scalding. It spreads, his entire body breaking a sweat out of pure distress. Chopper’s head snaps toward him, but he can’t make himself turn to see his expression because, wow, _that’s_ why. Alvida’s sick habits from four years ago are the _last_ fucking thing he wants to think about. Sure, it was only, like, three times but it was three times too many. This is karma, isn’t it? He drank the disgusting truth-coffee and bought a cursed doll and now— 

“Did you... want to?”

“No,” Zoro manages, somewhat crawling out of the pit of lace-filled horror in his brain. 

“Well, me neither. I was kind of forced to. But, then—” Chopper’s fidgeting intensifies. “Why?”

“Same reason.” He draws in a deep breath, trying to feel less like he’s boiling alive in his skin. “I might vomit all that shitty coffee if I have to think about this a second longer and we don’t drop it right now, so just keep that in mind.”

“Oh my god,” Chopper grabs at his elbow, quickly leading him down the street and away from the shop, “are you okay?”

Zoro doesn’t stop to look at him for at least another block or two. “We should go back and light it on fucking fire.”

“I admit that’s always fun, but it’s... pretty expensive?” 

“I still— ACK!” Zoro squawks, shoved off balance by something slamming into him from behind, warmth pressing along his back. 

“Zoro!” A voice shrieks into his ear, its owner breathing heavy, presumably from sprinting up the street to fucking _tackle_ him. 

“Luffy, what the _fuck—”_

Zoro’s hands lock around his wrists before his brain catches up to what his own mouth just said and he freezes, grip slackening. He exhales slowly, swallowing his reflexive instinct to flip the little shit over his shoulder. His heart jack-hammers away as Luffy giggles, arms briefly squeezing his shoulders. Something dangly and loud thumps his chest before Luffy releases him. Zoro whips around to see what the hell he’s done now. 

Chopper cocks his head. “Why do you have those?”

Luffy mirrors his head-tilt, expression and body language not unlike an excitable but confused puppy. “Hmm?” 

Chopper pauses for a second before deciding to ask a different question. “Did you leave the hotel just to shop?”

He shakes his head, still seeming confused. “Looking for something. I think.” He lights up after another pause, grinning brightly. “But I found you and Zoro instead!”

With the patience of a saint, Chopper asks, “You were looking for someone, then? Not us?”

Luffy’s head tilts even farther than last time before his eyes widen and he bops a fist on his palm. “OH, YEAH!” His voice echoes, loud in the sleepy town’s almost-empty streets. “THAT'S WHY I WENT OUT! I WAS LOOKING FOR ACE!”

“What? I thought everyone was at the hotel. Nami wants to leave soon.”

Luffy shrugs. “He wanted to go shopping and Usopp said he’s been gone since, like, seven this morning? I got distracted by this guy selling wind chimes.” A terrible, discordant jangle of metal rings out as he rattles them all in two fists. “I bought four!” 

_No fucking shit,_ Zoro almost says. He settles for a milder, “Yeah, we can see that.” 

“It’s been hours,” Chopper gently prods Luffy up the street as he starts walking again. “We’ll just have to wait for Ace at the hotel.” 

Luffy hums, neck craning to stare past Zoro. “Okay, but there was another one I kind of wanted to—”

Thinking fast, Zoro pulls the doll keychain out of his pocket. “Look what I got.”

Instantly distracted, Luffy spins out of Chopper’s grasp to stare nose-to-nose with the tiny object, walking backwards all the while. “Cool!” He squints, nose wiggling like he feels a sneeze coming on. “Uh... Mariana.” 

“H-how?” Chopper’s entire body visibly shudders and Zoro can’t help but laugh, which earns him a glare. “Please throw that thing in the next sewer drain we pass, I am _begging_ you.”

“Don’t be rude to Mariana!” Luffy scolds.

“That’s how you activate the curse,” Zoro lies.

But, as if to prove him wrong, the doors of the next three shops swing wide open at the exact same time. They all stare, waiting for someone to exit any of the shops, but the doors remain open for a solid minute before slamming shut without a single hand pulling them.

 _“Cool!”_ Luffy flaps his arms in excitement.

Chopper runs the entire next block, shrieking an impressive amount of profanity.

Zoro looks down at her. “Be nice, Mariana.” 

Before he puts her away, he swears to fuck a button eye winks at him.

* * *

Upon entering Chopper and Franky’s room, Zoro nearly trips over a small mountain of half-crushed soda cans and disposable lighters. A truly suspicious amount of lighters. 

Something clicks in his brain and he rolls his eyes. 

“Hey, bros!” Franky grins at them from the corner of the room, plunked in a chair and phone in hand. “Did you have fun?” 

Chopper crosses the room to flick him on the forehead. “Somewhat. Thank you for meddling, I guess.” 

Franky crushes him with a big hug before leaning back in the chair again. “It’s what I do!”

Zoro kicks at the pile of lighters. “How long has Ace been here?”

“Hours, bro. He came in with a massive bag, dumped all those lighters there, and disappeared into the bathroom.” Franky shrugs, gesturing toward the door around the corner Zoro only knows is there thanks to his own room. “I haven’t seen him for ages.” 

He sighs, moving a bit closer to the door as he yells, “Ace!” 

A muffled yelp answers him first, quickly followed by, “What? I’m crafting!”

He’s not going to ask. “Luffy’s been looking for you.”

The door pops open. “It’s fine,” he says, voice getting clearer as he rounds the corner. “He won’t get in too much trouble. Probably.” 

Zoro blinks rapidly as Ace comes into view, wasting the fuel in his zippo lighter as he clicks it on and off absentmindedly. His eyes rake over burgundy ruffles, fabric pulled taut by shoulders broader than the design likely meant to accommodate, and an enormous black silk bow. And it’s not the fact that it’s a dress, but that it’s— 

It’s the _same_ fucking _dress._

He exchanges a look with Chopper, who nods almost imperceptibly. 

Zoro lunges for the lighter and Ace shrieks as his arm acquires an enthusiastic wrestling partner. 

“What the fuck—”

“Hold still while I burn that dress off of you.”

Ace goes pliant, kohl-lined eyes bright. “Sorry, what?”

Chopper scowls at him. “It has to go. It’s cursed.” 

“Take it off or you go up in flames with it.” 

“Oh my god, guys,” Ace fans at his face with the hand Zoro isn’t strangling, “I’m kind of turned on right now.” 

Zoro wrinkles his nose and shoves him face-first into the bed, his short scream silenced by the mattress instantly suffocating him. He bounces once and then goes boneless, hair askew, a loud snore leaving him within seconds. Zoro gapes. 

“Did he just—”

Franky waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You know what? Never mind,” Chopper says, “we’re definitely setting him on fire, too.” 

Franky laughs at his boyfriend, sliding halfway down his chair in the process. “One day with Zoro and you want to set people on fire? The influence, bro.” 

Zoro rolls his eyes. “Are you fucking surprised? This is your own fault.” 

After all, he would still be brooding and insisting he and Chopper aren’t friends if Franky hadn’t forced an explosion on that front. 

“Bro,” Franky says, and his warm, joking tone makes Zoro step back a little bit, “he needs more crazy!”

Zoro and Chopper exchange a look. They glance toward Ace, comfortably asleep in full lolita attire, as another snore rips through the silence. Zoro knows that shit isn’t fucking comfortable, and Chopper would damn well agree. 

“Yeah fucking right...”

Chopper shakes his head. “Ace is enough crazy for ten people. He—”

“Wrong!”

Chopper zips behind Franky’s chair with a muted shriek as a body lands at his feet. Specifically, Ace, who rolls over and poses for them like he’s channeling Rose from _Titanic._ Zoro is sure Sanji would have some asinine comments to make about it. 

“Nineteen, actually!” Ace flicks his recently-curled hair off the shoulder it barely reaches. “I handed out surveys and we compared answers. Nobody passed.”

Zoro squints at him. “How the fuck does someone pass a survey?”

“They have to _want_ it!”

He thinks he might have to accept the fact that Ace never makes any sense. The mischievous glint to his eyes says he doesn’t fucking want to. 

They all jump as the door bangs into the wall, Luffy barreling through in a cacophony of entirely too much sound. 

Ace rolls over again to look at him, still maintaining his French girl pose. “Why do you have wind chimes?”

Luffy stares at his brother for a moment, chest heaving. “Pretty dress. Also, I liked them. Also—” he holds up his hand, inexplicably ensnared by one of the wind chimes “—I’m stuck.”

Zoro facepalms. 


	8. Cursed Vibes Only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji makes an enemy, Ace makes a friend, and Zoro only enjoys one of these things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... am SO late, y'all, but school has been kicking my ass. I am fully aware this chapter is pure shenanigans, and not very length either, which probably doesn't make up for the delay. Turns out filling in the gaps of my jumpy writing style is kind of difficult. Hah... sorry. We've already established this fic is self-indulgent to the max, though, right? I hope those who have chosen to stick around enjoy it anyway!

“We’re putting this one outside, on Merry’s roof cage... thingy!” 

“That disgrace isn’t going to survive going sixty on the highway, Luffy.”

“Yes, it will!”

Their driver appears to hold an aneurysm at bay by sheer force of will. “You’re going to scratch the paint.”

He looks him dead in the eye through the rearview mirror. “Life isn’t without suffering, Usopp.”

“Just know that I’m going to throw it in a lake and enjoy watching it drown.”

“You can’t do that. It’s the communal windchime!” Luffy pokes the metal Bigfoot charm, triggering a weirdly despondent series of notes from the windchime’s tubes. “Look, it’s Fred!”

“The sound of doom,” Franky intones, then flips attitudes entirely and waves at the decoration. “Hey, Fred!”

“You know,” Usopp says, “milking your failed prank for all it's worth does not increase the comedic value.”

“Your face has no comedic value,” Sanji seethes. 

“Are you ten?”

“Yes,” Zoro answers for him. 

Ace raises his hand. “Hey, I’m a ten!” He pokes at the windchime. “Anyway, we’ve got Mothman, Fred, adorable ghost, I think that’s Nessie, and...”

They all squint at the last red and white blob.

Nami wrinkles her nose. “Who authorized Santa as a cryptid?”

Luffy shrugs. “The other one had Elvis.” He dangles a second windchime from his other hand. “You’ll like this one, Robin!”

All Zoro can think is that they are _really_ lucky Luffy hadn’t gotten himself ensnared in this particular windchime. Chopper sends him a distressed stare that encapsulates the same thought, his heartrate ratcheting up at the very sight of it. Five or so fucking _knives_ dangle between deceptively sweet-sounding pipes. 

Robin snatches it, eyes glittering like the knives in the sunlight. “Beautiful yet deadly.” 

“Just like you!” Nami says. 

Zoro blinks at the back of her head, trying to decide if that was a flirtation or not. Mostly because it’s Nami and she doesn’t seem to compliment anyone, except Robin or Susan, hardly _ever._

Robin prods at his arm with a finger, then points at the back of Nami’s chair. “Is this an emotion?” she whispers, eyes a little wider than normal. 

He squints at her, having already solved this in his head with a big, fat— “How the fuck am _I_ supposed to know?” 

She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “I suppose you wouldn’t.”

A displeased squeal from Usopp draws their attention toward the head of the van once more. 

“Luffy, _why?”_

“I thought it matched Merry and would look good on the rearview mirror. It’s cute!”

“That is the _wrong_ adjective.”

For once, Zoro fully agrees. The sheep heads slowly twisting on their strings within the windchime are, quite simply, fucking hideous. They look more haunted than _Mariana,_ which is a level he’d thought unsurpassable. He sneers at them. They’ve proven nothing. 

Franky dares to touch it. “It’s kind of horrifying, bro. Not sure we want that on the mirror.”

Luffy pouts. “Nami said I could.”

Zoro strongly doubts that, which Sanji verbalizes with a scoff. “She did fucking not!”

Nami sighs. “I did tell him he could keep at least one in here.”

“But—” Usopp turns to her with a look of utmost betrayal. “But it will jingle with every bump.”

She smiles at him, a menacing gleam to her eyes. “Then drive carefully.”

* * *

The next hour or so passes in relative silence. It’s more alarming that the windchime on the mirror is _not_ causing a racket, but nobody mentions it. Zoro doesn’t know what the others’ reasons are, but his is out of mild fear. He’s not interested in activating the ancient sheep-vodoo by speaking it into existence. 

Usopp shatters this hope by swerving into another lane of bullshit entirely. 

“Who bought the Furby?” 

Zoro’s back goes ramrod straight, eyes locking with Chopper’s at the exact same time. “The fucking what?” 

Usopp pats the dashboard. “This creepy, horrifying little dude.” 

As one, their heads swivel forward. A bird-shaped lump of hellish plastic stares back at them, wide scarlet eyes bulging from neon green fur.

Zoro narrows his own. “Ace...” 

“Hey!” He puts his hands up in surrender. “For once, it wasn’t me!”

Nami looks up from her notebook and squeals like she’s seen a spider. Before Zoro can do it himself, she lunges for the Furby and chucks it out the window. 

She turns to look at the silent group in the back seat. “Instinct. Now let’s play the game ‘Who Fucked Up?’ Because I know someone did.”

Silence reigns supreme, either out of fear or in truthful answer to her question. 

Zoro breaks it by sighing. “I think that entire goddamn shop might have been cursed.” 

“Wait, you— you _bought_ one?” 

“No!” Chopper shouts, aghast at even the thought. “And that’s kind of the worst part about this. We only _saw_ them at the same shop Zoro got Mariana—”

Sanji’s head whips toward Zoro. “Who the fuck is Mariana?” 

He pulls the keychain out of his pocket. “My new best friend.” 

“You’re so fucking dumb, Marimo.” 

“Better watch out, Swirly, she’ll curse the shit out of you.”

“Oh, _please—”_

Chopper flails his arms, stumbling across the van to cover Sanji’s mouth with both of his hands. “It’s _true,_ so shut up. Don’t bring down her wrath!” 

Ace snorts, laughing nervously. “Is she the reason we have a Furby infestation?” He holds up the object in his hand. “Because it’s back.” 

Indeed, it is. The Furby stares on, scarlet gaze blank. 

Usopp white-knuckles the steering wheel, eyes darting nervously to the still-silent sheepchime above his head. “This does not spark joy.”

Robin blinks. “Astonishing. Did anyone happen to time that?”

“Uh...” Franky squints at his phone. “Three minutes?” 

Chopper _shrieks._ “We have to undo this! We have to go back and return the Furby!” 

Nami turns around in her seat, eyes pinning Zoro in place. “No, let’s do the easier thing. Just give me the doll.” 

He cups her in his hands, obscuring her from view. “Fuck you. It’s not Mariana’s fault.” 

“How the hell would you know?” 

Luffy crosses his arms, pouting. “She didn’t do it!”

“Again, I ask _how_ you know?” 

“It’s a different curse! Feel the vibe, Nami!” 

All three of them stare like they’ve got weapons loaded at each other’s faces. Zoro uses his ugliest scowl, refusing to let her have this. It’s his goddamn curse and he’ll let disaster fall upon him if he wants to. 

“Oh my god, fine! You two are the worst.” She sighs, slumping against the seat, her voice muffled against the headrest. “You’re lucky we aren’t that far out. Turn this fucker around, Usopp.”

He does so without a fight, right in the middle of the empty road. They haven’t seen another car for miles, which is not at all ominous or reinforcement of whatever shitstorm is currently playing out.

“Don’t call her a ‘fucker’, Nami. Have some respect for inanimate objects.” Usopp glances nervously back at Zoro, or more specifically Mariana, who remains clutched in his fist. “N-Not that Mariana is— is _inanimate._ Dolls are people too!” 

Amusement bubbles up in Zoro’s chest, but he doesn’t let the laughter escape. “Thank you for taking a stance on doll rights.” 

Franky turns to Luffy, eyes wide. “Bro, we should make signs.” 

“Out of what?” Sanji scoffs. “Sheer stupidity?”

Zoro twirls the keychain between his fingers absentmindedly. “If that’s all they need, you’re one plentiful fucking harvest.” 

“Sorry, but who was barely passing most of their classes?”

Luffy’s hand shoots up. “Me!” 

“You don’t count. You’re Luffy, of course you weren’t.” 

It’s almost imperceptible, given his still-sunny grin and giggling, but Luffy sinks further into his seat. 

Zoro scowls, real anger curdling in his chest. “Where the fuck do you even get off saying shit like—”

 _“Oh_ my god, use me,” Ace interrupts, shooting him a look before nudging at his brother’s shin with a toe. “I’m way more stupid than all of you!”

Sanji’s brows furrow, like this offends him somehow, and— Zoro stops cold. _Brows._ Plural. 

His irritation all but vanishes. He claps his hands over his mouth, a strangled breath escaping him. He sees Luffy’s head cock curiously in his periphery, but he can’t stop staring. And he can’t hold it in anymore because— 

“I thought one was ridiculous as fuck,” Zoro splutters, laughter finally bursting out of him with a snort, “but both eyebrows are on a whole other level.” 

Sanji’s scowl lifts as he looks up like he can see his own face and figure out what the fuck Zoro is on about.

“Hold still for a moment.” Robin takes a picture. 

He squeaks, cheeks going scarlet as he frantically grasps at his hair, trying to push it back into place. The blond strands have inexplicably begun floating toward the ceiling. It twists in corkscrews, slipping slowly through the gaps of his fingers. 

“What the fuck, Marimo?!” He switches to rapidly patting it down instead of pressing, but the hair merely darts away from his hands before he makes contact. 

“I did warn you,” Zoro says. Granted, he didn’t try very hard, but he did _try._

“Hair up. Identity in shambles,” Franky narrates, presumably taking a video as Chopper giggles hysterically beside him. 

Nami has already progressed into silent laughter, clutching her stomach as she wiggles down the chair. 

Luffy pats Mariana’s dirty little crochet head. “I love her.” 

Oh, Jesus, but he loves her too. 

Usopp slams a palm into the wheel. “Are we finally seeing Sanji’s whole face? I want to see, goddammit!” 

“I changed my mind,” Nami wheezes. “Mariana can stay.” 

* * *

“Haven’t we passed that rock like three times?”

“Yes, that was where Usopp almost crashed the van trying to see Sanji’s stupid face.” 

Usopp pumps a fist into the air. “Worth it! It was everything I dreamed and more.” 

Zoro decides not to question why the hell Usopp spends his time dreaming about what Sanji’s full face might look like. Crashing his precious van most certainly could not have been worth it. And if it was, there’s only so much Zoro can comprehend today beyond floating hair and haunted Furbies. The bizarre intricacies of Usopp’s priority list will not be one of those things. 

“We should name it,” Ace says, inspecting their uninvited guest. 

He hasn’t put the Furby down since he found it, which may be the only reason it hasn’t vanished and reappeared somewhere else. 

“Stop naming the curses!” Chopper sobs. 

“Forget the curse! Forget the rock!” Nami groans, head lolling against the window as she clutches the roadmap. “We’ve definitely already passed _the town,_ guys! It should be _right here._ Just pull over, we’re going in circles.” 

“Good. Merry deserves a break.” 

Robin hums consideringly as they roll to a stop. “Perhaps this means we _should_ remember the curse.”

Nami turns around to look at her, eyes wide. “What, exactly, are you suggesting?” 

“It’s all very strange.” She smirks, glancing out at the side of the road. “I can’t help but wonder if it’s simply... gone.” 

Nami looks vaguely like she wants to cry. “Gone?”

Robin nods. “Like it never existed.”

A heartbeat of silence stretches on for a century, during which Zoro recalls the ever-mute, demented sheep heads on Usopp’s windchime and considers how likely it is that they really _are_ cursed. 

Just as he’s settled on a range of _pretty fucking likely_ to _it’s a sure thing,_ Chopper wails, _“I want a refund!”_

Zoro laughs, and it sounds marginally evil. He’s having a special level of fun with this shit that is _definitely_ uncalled for, but the giddiness is addictive enough that he doesn’t care. “On what? You didn’t pay for anything.” 

“No, you did!” Chopper accuses, voice shrill in his panic. “And now all of us have to pay with our sanity!” 

Ace raises his eyebrows. “Wait, you guys _had_ some of that? Where the fuck did my share go?” 

“The void,” Luffy answers. “Just like the town.” 

“And yours?” 

“Also the void.”

 _I think I’d like the void,_ Zoro almost says. It’s probably more comfortable than Alvida’s house at any given time. Nice and empty and— wait a damn minute, that sounds suspiciously like a recipe for being alone with his thoughts. Fuck that. The void is decidedly a shitshow of epic proportions.

Usopp shakes his head. “Gotta be different voids. Luffy’s has insane amounts of meat and, like, aliens. And constant, shitty pop playing in it.” 

“Hey, I want aliens in my void!”

“You don’t need them. Yours has fire, Furbies, and probably loops that remix of the Little Einsteins theme song.”

Ace pauses, considering these words of wisdom, and shrugs. “I guess our voids don’t mesh, Luffy.” 

Nami side-eyes Usopp. “What does my void have?” 

“Half the brain cells of this group, plus everything you’ve ever stolen in your life. ‘Material Girl’ blasting twenty-four-seven.”

Sanji whistles. “That’s... a lot of expensive shit.” He pokes at Usopp’s shoulder, eye lighting up. “Oh my god, do Marimo. Make it fucking offensive.” 

Zoro scowls, tensing as Usopp does a head-to-toe scan of him before he refocuses on driving. 

“Brendon Urie’s involved somehow, that’s all I can pin down right now.”

Sanji hums. “Gay emo jokes. Solid.” 

Ace pets the bird demon in a disturbingly affectionate manner. “I will call you Furby and you shall be mine.”

Chopper sends a pleading look toward Nami. 

“Hey, no. Stop it. I can’t control that— that _thing.”_

“Furby doesn’t want to be controlled.”

Sanji huffs. “She meant _you.”_

* * *

It's rough, sleeping in Merry for the first time. They're in the middle of goddamn nowhere after driving for the entire day, no towns or cities for miles. Usopp wanted a break, and he trusted no one but the girls with Merry, who hadn't wanted to take over. Combined with darkness, it left them no choice but to stop. 

It's so cramped in the back that Zoro seriously considers sleeping on the roof. Correction, on the ground. Franky is so big that they strapped him to the roof in two thick sleeping bags and called it fucking swell. Shifting in his tight spot, he tries to figure out exactly why freezing his ass off sounds preferable to sandwiching between Luffy and Nami. 

Nami. 

_Right._

He fidgets once again, focusing on not jumping out of his skin when the warm curve of Nami's hip on his back moves higher, turns into something... _squishier._ Zoro's breath hitches before he releases it in a long-suffering sigh. Great. This is so _fucking_ great. Having L1 _and_ L2 of his friend’s lady bubbles pressed against his back is everything he’s ever dreamed and more. 

Oh, wait a damn second, hold the fuck up, excuse his colossal mistake — those are _nightmares._

Zoro scowls at whatever's in front of him, which happens to be Luffy's face. And just like that, a lightbulb flickers on in his head, signifying his second horrible idea of the night. Not even bothering to contemplate the thousands of ways this could go wrong, he jams one of his arms underneath Luffy, then brings the other around to fully encircle him. 

Luffy squirms awake as he's pulled flush against a wall of warm muscle. His trapped arms weakly push at Zoro's chest for a second before he hums and goes boneless in his hold. 

"Zoro?" he mumbles, soft and confused. "Not that I mind, but why're we cuddling?" 

He’s so set on his goal he hardly registers how odd it is that Luffy considers this borderline strangle-hold 'cuddling'. 

"Brace yourself," he mutters back vaguely. 

Luffy tenses. "What?" he hisses. "Why do I have to—" 

He cuts off with a choked grunt as Zoro's arms tighten, muscles bulging in warning of what he's about to do. 

_Heave-ho!_

"Holy crap!" 

Ignoring the rapid and slightly hysterical whispers of his name, he hefts Luffy up and _twists_ like an enraged fucking crocodile. He rolls smoothly into the space left behind. Luffy's chest heaves against his with quick pants, the sporadic rhythm distracting. The feeling of Merry's wall at his back almost goes unnoticed, along with the accompanying burst of relief. 

_"Wow,_ Zoro's strong," Luffy breathes, nothing more than an appreciative whisper. And Zoro really shouldn't be watching the way his lips part in the scant moonlight. 

He lets him go. 

"This spot is better," he offers an explanation unasked for, omitting details that would make Luffy look at him strangely. Like Nami, who somehow stayed asleep while he executed his dumb plan. 

Luffy giggles, and that's softer, too, not wild and disruptive and uncontrolled like it usually is. Zoro finds it a _smidge_ endearing. 

"You could've just _asked,_ you know." 

"Yeah, well..." He blinks, not alert enough to feel embarrassed. "Oops?" 

The light laughter comes back in wheezes, at that. Luffy pounds mild fists against Zoro’s chest and he grabs them, halting the assault before closing his eyes. 

"Yeah, yeah," he sighs. "I'm an idiot, now go the fuck to sleep." 

"Fine, but I get piggyback rides tomorrow now that I know Zoro's like superman." 

He huffs a laugh of his own. "Whatever you say, Luffy." 

His sleep laced brain doesn't realize he's still holding Luffy's hand, dark hair a comforting tickle on his chin.

* * *

Franky shoves his phone in Zoro’s face first thing the next morning. “Look how cute you bros are!” 

Zoro knocks it out of his hand. _“Die._ ‘S too early t’be a fuckin’... idiot-face.”

The giant does eventually leave him in peace, at least until his eyes snap open at the realization that Franky has _a photo of him and Luffy cuddling_ saved in his phone. Zoro abhors his knee-jerk reaction to ask the asshole to send it to him. Hard fucking pass. He will never need that photo for anything helpful. He doesn’t need reminders of the good parts when this all goes to shit. It’ll just be depressing as hell. 

He scowls at the ceiling since he can’t turn the look on himself for being such an idiot. Cuddling with Luffy does _not_ count as a _good thing._

He sighs, detangling from the koala of a boy molded to his side, and sits up. “Where to next?”

After a long glower aimed in his direction, Usopp seems to realize the question is meant for him. “Do I look like I know?”

“Aren't you the one driving?”

“Don't look at me, Nami's the one with the map.” 

Zoro has never been less reassured in his life. Well, no. That’s definitely reserved for that time he broke a few toes and Alvida swore she would _of course_ pick him up after his dojo lesson. She hadn’t. He hobbled home after waiting two hours, too embarrassed to ask Koshiro for a ride. 

Usopp inspires those same feelings through sheer exasperation.

Apparently, it shows on his face since Usopp shrugs. “Probably just another hotel for now, unless we pass a spot someone wants to hit before we find one.”

“Your planning is truly impressive.”

“I try.”

He rolls his eyes and flops back down next to Luffy, who immediately resumes his impersonation of an octopus trying to strangle its next meal. Zoro’s not sure he’d mind getting eaten. 

“I need a new brain,” he blurts.

Sanji laughs but it sounds like a dying lawnmower, given that he’s barely conscious and his lungs are shot to shit. “That’s not gonna work, Marimo. Stupid as deep as yours has gotta live in your fucking bone marrow.”

Zoro throws Mariana in his general direction and takes great satisfaction in the way Sanji bolts upright and runs face-first into Merry’s backdoor with a shriek. 


	9. God Is a Wom-van ft. Freddie Mercury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Usopp revealing how he found religion, but make it sad. More fights are had and Zoro has a terrible time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is incredibly late and incredibly angsty. I really have nothing else to say except... enjoy this somewhat Usopp-focused chapter exactly none of you asked for. I think this also counts as Merry's backstory? Yes? Have fun.  
> (P.S. I'm shocked and half-disappointed nobody has called me out for these chapter titles yet. Step aside, Fall Out Boy.)

Gas stations have become something familiar and halfway comforting. Zoro feels like that's where he always ends up when he zones back in from hours of driving.

If nothing else, they provide the opportunity to stretch and shake the deadness out of his limbs after sitting for far too long.

He'd finally noticed the list of 'locations' stuck on the van wall and couldn't resist. Apparently neither could the others, because below his handwriting is someone else's.

'Location: IDK, New York?'

' _Zoro, We're Literally in SoCal, It's Not Possible to Be Further From New York in the Country.'_

He leaves it be for now.

They make a quick pit-stop, accompanied by screams of terror from Usopp as the gas tank monitor bings at them a quarter of the way to the pet store. Susan needs more supplies, though they don't do much more than bask in their heat lamp for hours and hours. Lizards are kind of boring pets, Zoro finds, but he loves the lazy little blob of scales nonetheless.

Usopp had vetoed bringing Mariana because—

"The sheep heads are cursed enough, so get in line!"

Fair enough, he guesses. Luffy promised to bring her a lollipop. Zoro's not sure how much good that's going to do when it's larger than her entire body.

The three of them are the only ones delegated to the task for, essentially, the same reason as before.

("I am not going to be responsible for the chaos our group will cause if we all come with you, especially if it's the pet store." Nami had narrowed her eyes in the general direction of the backseat. "Ace might try to buy three chinchillas again."

"I would _not!"_

Her deadpan stare said more than words ever could.

"Buy... three." He wilted, hunching in on himself as he mumbled, "Just one."

"That's one more than we need."

"That's a lie. Who mandated the chinchilla limit, anyway? Did we even vote on that issue? I don't remember voting on it because I definitely would have voted more chinchilla."

"I will eat your favorite lighter right in front of you and not feel even a little bit bad about it."

Sanji squinted at her. "Is that supposed to be more threatening to you or him?"

"Her," Ace said, "because my favorite lighter is shaped like a fire extinguisher and I can't see that going down easy."

"Not the pig?" Luffy pouted. "Where it comes from the nostrils?"

"Hmm. Not as ironic.")

A series of pokes to his side makes him jump where he leans against Merry. Luffy giggles at his reaction, hitching a thumb toward the store. "Does Zoro want a snack?"

He wrinkles his nose at his tone. "What am I, your fucking pet?"

"Would you be?" Luffy cocks his head, not missing a beat.

"What? Why the hell would I want to?" Zoro volleys back, quickly losing track of what they're talking about or how they got here.

Luffy shrugs. "Then I'd get to keep you! And you'd get to keep me," he says, like that isn't somehow the weirdest yet most... adorably _possessive_ line of thinking he's ever heard.

"Uh. Right."

It doesn't even piss him off in the " _what the fuck"_ way statements like that usually do. He's just— warm. Basking under the attention of that smile.

Zoro swallows the lump in the back of his throat. He wishes he could hit the mute button on the voice in his head that begins chanting _'kiss him, kiss him, kiss him!'_ No one's gotten him to feel this much in a while. And this positive? Never. It's kind of freaking him out. He shouldn't want to kiss Luffy. He's fairly certain that's not how friendships work.

Because, really, what the fuck is he doing crushing on someone he's known for a week? Fucking fine, he admits it. Luffy's cute or hot or _whatever,_ but Zoro's going to keep those thoughts locked down tight. He doesn't want to consider what will happen if he walks into his house and says something like: 'Hey! So I have a boyfriend — yeah, I'm gay or some shit that you don't care about — and he rides around in a sheep-van named Merry with the seven other outcasts of my high school, but it's okay because _I'm_ an outcast, too!'

Zoro repeatedly bangs his head against Merry's door.

 _Boyfriend?_ _**Boyfriend?**_ Now he's really getting ahead of himself. Nobody in their right mind would date him. They only want to—

"Zoro, what are you doing?"

"Trying to knock myself out."

"Why?"

 _You and your stupid face and your way of being nice to me when I don't deserve it._ "No special reason."

Zoro may not survive this trip.

* * *

He had the right idea for the wrong reasons. The only pet store in town is stupidly far from their hotel and—

" _Galileo! Galileo. Galileo!"_

His ears are dying. They're dying and he's going to tear them off before the disease spreads to the rest of him. He inhale-exhales slowly, trying to quell the urge to scream. Even more slowly, he inches up to the passenger seat and looms along the back of it until Luffy finally turns around.

"What?" he asks, horrifically innocent for the amount of torture he's inflicting.

Zoro never thought he would say this, but— "If you play Bohemian Rhapsody _one more_ goddamn time, I'm going to throw your phone out the fucking window."

Luffy frowns, clutching the device in a protective fist. "It's a good song!"

"Not after _seven_ fucking replays," he hisses.

Luffy raises the phone to display both the screen and the sheer magnitude of fucks he gives, which is to say _none_ at _all._ Never breaking eye contact, he presses the back arrow to play it again. "Weak."

" _Is this the real life? Is this just—"_

A shriek of frustration tears from Zoro's throat, drowning the music out entirely. Luffy screams in turn, flinging his phone to the floor as Zoro lunges for the gap between the front seats. He doesn't bother chasing the phone, instead ripping the aux cord from the console, dragging Luffy's phone along the end with a well-placed tug. His tormentor watches in abject horror as Zoro unplugs his phone and firmly sits on it.

"Zoro's mean!"

He scoffs. He is decidedly NOT-MEAN. He did not, after all, throw the phone out the window like he threatened. " _You're_ fucking mean!"

Luffy sticks his tongue out at him, face twisted in a scowl. He fumbles his headphones out of his pocket and into his ears, turning around with a loud, disapproving harrumph.

"Those aren't connected to shit. I have your phone, dumbass!"

"I can't hear you over Freddie Mercury!"

"Give up," Usopp says, voice absolutely lifeless. "Never hand Luffy the aux cord. I never know what the song will be except that it won't be more than that. _A_ song. One."

He shakes the offending cord in his face. "Aren't _you_ in charge of it?"

"Constant vigilance is hard to maintain, Zoro."

"I still blame you since you're the driver. Control your co-idiot."

Luffy pouts, head snapping toward them. "Hey!"

Zoro ignores him. He can't _possibly_ hear them over his imaginary soundtrack.

" _My_ idiot?" Usopp lets loose a hideous cackle. "What gives me ownership? Driving Merry?"

Regardless of whether he actually means it, Zoro nods. "Abso-fucking-lutely."

And then, because he's clearly cracked under the stress of the last forty minutes, Usopp swerves toward the road's shoulder. "Fine! Fine, fine, fine—" He throws her into park, cursing his seatbelt as he unbuckles with sharp, jerky movements and plops down in the back seat. "I'm giving up custody to save my sanity. _You_ drive!"

The keys, with their odd little flying-pig charm, land in Zoro's lap as though _that_ isn't insanity in itself. Merry being entrusted to him is somewhere near rock-bottom on the list of possible things that he thought would happen. For so many reasons. The most glaring being that Usopp trusts _no one_ with her and Zoro shouldn't even be a candidate.

But Usopp only stares at him, arms crossed.

Oh, jesus fuck, this is awkward.

The challenge makes him want to jump right in the driver's seat. He's not sure he wants to gamble his friends' lives to save face and not look pathetic. And yeah, plenty of people their age and older can't drive, but Usopp says it so pointedly it's like— _Can't you even do_ this _right? You_ should _be able to do this._

Zoro wonders if four or five not-too-bad sessions of self-teaching in Alvida's truck at 3AM are sufficient. (The fact that she never found out and, therefore, never beat the shit out of him for it? The victory of his lifetime.)

He gets in the driver's seat. "Fine."

_It's not going to be fine when you crash the damn van._

Zoro elects to ignore his inner-voice of reason.

* * *

As it turns out, Merry is a fucking behemoth of a vehicle. She may be a van, but she has the turning radius of a goddamn seven-forty-seven.

Zoro did not anticipate how difficult might be to drive something at least three times larger than Alvida's stupid truck. One small mercy is that she isn't stick-shift, because Zoro can hardly remember left and right without considering the rest of the bullshit that entails.

"GO RIGHT! NO THE OTHER RIGHT!" Usopp screeches, holding onto the seat beneath him for dear life. "NO THE OTHER OTHER RIGHT!"

The car behind them honks, long and angry. Zoro panics, jerking the wheel the opposite way, and—

An anticlimatic tearing noise shreds Zoro's already frayed nerves as he scrapes the side of the van on fuck knows what. He flies past before he can begin to identify it.

" _Pull over!"_ Usopp grips his shoulder, fingers digging in harshly, and Zoro's stomach bottoms out.

He pulls over.

"Uh oh," Luffy mumbles, going after Usopp when he wrenches the door open and throws himself outside.

A muffled shriek from Usopp reaches him through the van walls.

Zoro sits alone, heart pounding in the ensuing silence as he white-knuckles the steering wheel. His blood turns icy, a cold flush sweeping through him and rendering him immobile even though he knows he should go fucking _apologize._ It won't matter. Usopp probably wants to kill him. Awesome. He'd known he would fuck up badly somewhere, but this is worse than he imagined.

He pries his fingers from the wheel, sweat-slick palms leaving a smear on the leather, and _great,_ that's just what this situation needs— his grimy hands ruining the wheel's sleeve! He stares blankly at them as they shake in midair, hoping like hell that he's not about to vomit on top of everything else. With a shudder, he pops open the door and practically falls out of the driver's seat, swaying unsteadily as his fingertips pause on the rim of the open door.

Just in case.

Because he'd rather fling himself directly into oncoming traffic than fuck up quite that much. If he lets go entirely, it might happen anyway.

Not like it matters. He loses that tiny point of contact with Merry when the door slams shut and he instinctively dips forward to avoid his fingers getting crushed. The sound rattles his bones, a thunderclap to the system, but Zoro doesn't look. He _can't,_ because he knows Usopp's silhouette well enough to recognize it in his periphery. Zoro can't tell if the stream of cars rumbling by is that loud, that fast, or if he's just shaking _that_ bad.

A hand lands on his shoulder, grip squeezing, and Zoro goes stock-still. He lets himself be manhandled around to face Usopp, limbs loose yet somehow rigid, trying not to get defensive. Trying not to jump the gun and shove him into Merry before bolting. One, he doesn't know where the fuck they are. Two, Usopp is clearly terrified of him whenever Zoro hasn't just scratched up his favorite thing in the world, and he'd rather not make that worse.

So, yes, he's trying. Everything's sinking underwater anyway. He's pretty sure someone's speaking to him, but his eyes are squeezed shut and he can't hear much past the dull roar as he braces for a hit.

It gets louder, the hand on his shoulder tighter, two voices tripping over each other in anger until the hold on him abruptly gets knocked loose. Zoro dares to open his eyes, the red of Luffy's shirt almost too bright in the sun against Merry's monochrome paint job. He's standing too close. Tension knots Luffy's turned back, fists clenched at his sides, but it's no less jarring than if they were nose-to-nose because _what the fuck is he doing?_

"I know you love Merry! I do too, but calm down! It's not that bad!"

Zoro stares at the back of his head, transfixed by the sharp line his jaw makes as he grits his teeth. As he defends Zoro for reasons he can't even begin to fathom right now. Nobody _ever_ defended him for things as small as dropping a glass of water. Him fucking up something this important isn't even in the same league, and yet—

"Seriously? I can't pay to _fix_ that, Luffy!" Usopp jabs a finger at the van and guilt hits Zoro like a knife to the chest.

"Dadan can help! So can Franky. You _work_ there, Usopp!"

He manages to scowl harder, and Zoro hadn't even thought him capable of such a mean expression. "That's not the same thing. We don't _do that!_ And that doesn't mean I don't have to pay! It's not—" His mouth clamps shut, muffling the frustrated screech that sounds from the back of his throat. "You're so fucking _dumb_ sometimes, Luffy."

The pit in Zoro's chest gapes wider when Luffy's shoulders bunch closer, fists opening and closing as he huffs. "I know, but—"

"No, you don't _listen._ That means _keep out of it,_ for once in your goddamn life!"

Luffy's head bows and Zoro opens his mouth before he can think better of it, snapping, "Don't fucking talk to him like that. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Me?" Usopp focuses on him over Luffy's shoulder, incredulous. "What's wrong with _you?"_

And if _that_ isn't the million-dollar question, Zoro will eat his own foot. "You've gotta be a helluva lot more specific than that."

Usopp takes a step forward, the fire in his eyes making Zoro back up in turn, matching him step for step. "Why did you even try to drive her when you clearly _can't?"_

It's not true but he says it anyway, to convince them as futilely as he could ever convince himself. Because he doesn't want to admit he barely knew what he was doing. That he really _is_ that incompetent. That desperate for— for their _approval_ or some shit. "You're acting insane. It's just a fucking _van,_ Usopp!"

The rage burns brighter than ever, disappointed frown lifting in a snarl, and Zoro takes a bigger step back. He knows that look. Knows even Luffy between them won't stop Usopp from trying to beat the shit out of him. He keeps shuffling away, soles dragging on the gritty road despite realizing he has to suck it up and get it over with at some point. Just not yet. The reprieve from this shit was nice while it lasted.

Usopp's eyes dip downward and widen just before he lunges toward him, hand outstretched. "Fuck, _Zoro!"_

Zoro flinches back as Luffy also whirls around, not expecting that much movement or aggression right off the bat. He nearly jumps out of his skin as a horn blares right behind him. A dizzying whoosh of air knocks him off balance, and one harsh yank to the middle of his shirt later he's crashing toward the ground, knees scraping. A leg slots between them, pressing at Zoro's inner thigh firmly enough that he recoils and tries to stand, pitch backward even if it means falling into traffic again. The hand still twisted into his shirt stops him. A gasp punches out of Luffy as he lands flat on his back underneath him.

Within moments, Luffy curls upward and leans his head toward Zoro's chest, mumbling, "It's fine, it's fine, it's fine—" over and over again.

"Jesus christ, _what the fuck,_ oh my god, you almost _died—"_

Distantly, he realizes there are at least four too many hands grappling at his arms and clothing, voices barking, " _Are you okay?"_ like it's all they know how to say. He's too disoriented by the ringing in his ears to do anything but freeze, heart hiccuping in panic.

He doesn't know how long he crouches there before he sits back a bit, calves burning from the awkward position. Luffy's shoulder trembles beneath his hand as he glances toward where Usopp paces, babbling a mile a minute. Sighing shakily, he winds an arm around Luffy's waist and hoists him to his feet. He lets him go, practically prying Luffy's fingers from his shirt.

 _Fucking stop it. You're fine, brush it off,_ he tells himself, hears it more in Alvida's voice than his own. That's exactly the point. He's being stupid and he's done stalling. _Nothing even happened, you drama queen._

"I'm fine," he insists at Luffy's frown, his shaking head. Zoro turns away, gesturing Usopp forward. "Alright. Let's get this over with."

Usopp squints in confusion, though he maintains that anger-roughened tone. " _What?"_

He tilts his head and knocks on his cheekbone. "Free shot and we're even. Maybe." If Usopp decides he deserves more than that, he won't protest. His stomach twists as he shrugs, eyes roaming the horizon even though he wants nothing more than to duck his head and run. "I'll pay for repairs or whatever, too, but we can work that shit out after this."

He thinks he _might_ have saved enough. He's never been more grateful that Koshiro helped him set up a bank account with barely a question as to why he refused to go to his legal guardian about it. Meanwhile, Alvida thinks he's only a volunteer at the dojo. Fuck knows she'd have spent every last cent he earned if she knew. Further compensation for his existence.

Usopp's still staring at him uncomprehendingly, and he doesn't dare check what kind of face Luffy's making right now.

Zoro rolls his eyes. "Do you even know how to throw a punch?" He walks over at the risk of being wrong and getting a nasty surprise. Usopp was pretty fast with that lunge earlier, after all. "Here," he says, taking Usopp's wrist in one hand and forcing it into a fist with the other. "It's easy. Just make sure you keep your thumb out and center your weight." He kicks lightly at Usopp's foot, nudging it into place the same way he adjusts kids' stances at work. "Dominant foot back. Twist your hips into it but shoot straight."

He steps out of his space but not quite out of punching range, crossing his arms as he waits.

Usopp stares at him like he's just told him to breakdance in the middle of the street. His head whips toward Luffy. "Did that just happen? Luffy, please, I can't tell if he's joking."

Zoro also turns to Luffy. "Can you show him? I don't know how much simpler I can explain it and I want to move the fuck on."

Luffy scowls, viciously yanking Merry's back door open. "Get in, Zoro."

He sighs, wondering what the hell he's done to earn _Luffy's_ ire now. "He still hasn't—"

"Get. In." He stomps into the van without another word.

Zoro glances toward Usopp and receives a mild glare before slinking after Luffy. He quietly hands back his phone and the aux cord, slumping into the seat as that goddamned _fucking song_ begins again.

He holds back a scoff, though it's mostly directed inward.

_Stupid._

He should have just accepted the torture the first time around. This is what he gets for being—

 _Weak. Fucking_ weak. _Can't even deal with something so insignificant? Are you shitting me?_

Even Luffy had said it.

Zoro grits his teeth harder, because hearing Luffy's voice layered over Alvida's is a special kind of hurt. It makes him wish that Usopp hadn't shouted. That Luffy's reflexes were slower. That he'd already stepped far enough none of it would have mattered anymore.

* * *

Their very awkward shopping trip flies by, thankfully no overly-touchy employees in sight, and before long Merry's back to terrorizing the public.

About six more replays of Queen later, during which Zoro hasn't so much as _breathed_ let alone complained, Usopp slaps a hand on the wheel with a curse and mutes the radio.

The silence stretches until, like an asshole, because _done stalling lesson learned,_ Zoro mutters, "Is it time to share our feelings?"

Usopp gives him a dry look.

"Sorry, go ahead."

"Look, I know—" Usopp huffs, physically shaking off the rest of his anger as he wiggles his limbs. "I know we all like to poke fun and laugh about how much Merry means to me but that's because she _does._ She's—" He snaps his mouth shut, swallowing against difficult words. They come out slowly, carefully. "She's the only important lie I've ever made half-true."

"Half-true?" Zoro glances at a strangely silent Luffy, but he's staring at Usopp with sad eyes.

"It was the last story I told my sister before she died."

At that, Zoro's chest tightens to the point of breathlessness. Blue splashes behind closed eyelids as he takes a deep breath. Which is stupid, because she may not have contacted him in close to a decade, but Kuina isn't fucking dead. Probably.

He _hopes._

Well, now Zoro knows why Usopp hadn't punched him in the middle of the road. One punch would not have been enough and traffic whirring by wouldn't have been conducive to the full beating he's earned.

"Shit. I—" He runs a hand through his hair, hating how much he kind of wants to _cry._ "I'm sorry. I've been such an asshole about this. I knew how much she meant to you but— _fuck._ I'm just sorry."

Usopp exhales heavily. "It'll be okay. We'll figure something out." He playfully shoves at the boy next to him, drawing a giggle out that makes everything else feel a little lighter. "Luffy was kind of right anyway. It's not _that_ bad."

"Kaya would be mad you yelled at me," Luffy says.

He shakes his head, amused but baffled. "Why do you always talk like you _knew_ her?"

Luffy shrugs, looking out the window with a grin. "You've told me about her enough times." He gasps, shoving Usopp far more harshly than he'd been shoved earlier. "Zoro doesn't know! Tell him!"

"You just want to hear me tell it again, don't you?"

"So?"

Zoro cringes a bit. "You really don't have to if you don't want to."

He gets waved off. "It's okay." Usopp sighs, fond before he's even begun to spin his tale. "I like having new audiences. And this one is nothing but true."

* * *

Usopp's favorite story is about a girl.

The daughter of his father's second wife, who wanted neither of his children. At least not more than he wanted his own freedom. Usopp resented him for it, but that had been more for Kaya's sake than his own. He hadn't expected the man to stick around after his ten-year-old daughter fell victim to the same disease that killed his first wife. The second one didn't want children despite having Kaya.

Things became crystal clear when they'd had the police knock on their door, tearing their house apart in search of DVD's their father had apparently pirated and sold en-masse. So, yeah, he'd had his reasons to tuck tail and run lined up in a neat little row, although the latter was the only excuse Usopp would give Kaya. He couldn't let her blame herself, going so far as to tell her he was adopted. He couldn't risk her piecing it together if he began talking about his own mother, though it would be quite a leap in logic.

And Usopp still can't understand what made their father abandon a girl on her deathbed. Or maybe he understands perfectly. Taking care of Kaya, watching her slowly wither away, was no cakewalk. But she was fucking _worth it_. She was worth more than Usopp's own pain. Her life would be short and he'd be damned if he made it any less bright by running away. She deserved more than that just for being the antithesis of everything Usopp is. Pale and fragile, yet strong enough to battle against her so-called fate. Her bravery versus his cowardice.

Tons of other shit surrounded her existence, but Kaya was always the center of his. He worked every odd job he could at fourteen years old, dodging the system of suits who would try to separate them. He held her hair back as she spat blood, wiped her tears and made her laugh and carried her when her legs gave out.

Kaya was his to protect, to love— but not to keep.

_Was._

Most of his stories are told in past-tense. That's not the problem, not what makes his mind tick in all the wrong ways. He only hates the word _was_ when it's attached to the name Kaya. He wishes she hadn't left a gaping hole in his present and colored his past with sunshine laughter, or lent him ears that drank up every lie as the indisputable truth.

He sometimes wonders if he only imagined that part. But he has to believe that _she_ believed because then they'd both have been liars. That reality is too painful for him to consider. Lying can't be the only thing he'd taught her when she was the reason he'd learned how to in the first place.

" _I want to go outside today! I don't even feel that bad."_

_Her swaying figure as she rose from her bed said differently. And the frustrated huff she gave said she already knew that._

" _Outside is boring!" Usopp rebutted, thinking fast as he steered her away from the door. "Did I ever tell you about the time I tamed a giant rainbow sheep?"_

_Kaya's lips twitched into a slow smile as she sat down, cocking her head to the side in interest. "I don't think so..."_

_Usopp grinned so big it hurt. "Its name was Merry."_

* * *

The day Kaya leaves the world is the same day Usopp resolves to rebuild his own.

He gathers up each false tale, scrapes them into shape, and uses them as building blocks. If it could win over someone as wonderful as Kaya, he has to hope it might happen again.

But people only look at him like he's crazy.

He spills nonsense to a fidgety boy in red who has a neighboring locker. Luffy, he learns, who smiles and smiles and _smiles._

Even getting shoved _into_ that locker isn't enough to dislodge it.

"Out of the way, retard!"

Usopp flinches at the venom in the word, but Luffy only blinks and rights himself against the lockers with a snort. He turns toward Usopp again, tilting his head in a wordless gesture to continue. The smile remains. It's like he knows the secret to simple happiness and Usopp is just— _fascinated._ Nobody else seems to want to approach the kid to figure it out.

He opens his mouth to say _I'm sorry they call you that—_ to ask _what are you taking and can I have some?_ What comes out is, "You ever tamed a sheep?"

Luffy's eyes light up. "No, but I know where we can get one."

And damn if that doesn't inspire immediate fear and admiration. Usopp stares at the doors behind him. "Ditch?"

He throws his fist in the air, knocking off his red-ribboned straw hat in the process. "Adventure!"

"This is the start of a beautiful friendship."

* * *

The scrapyard they wind up at is decidedly less beautiful.

It takes Luffy a full fifteen minutes to coax Usopp through the hole in the fence. One that he nearly darts out of again when Luffy immediately starts _whistling_ and _shouting at the sky._

"SURUME!"

A growl rumbles toward them from somewhere in the rubble, and the biggest dog he's ever seen in his life steps out from behind a wrecked car. It bares sharp teeth, snarling like the very sight of them offends it.

Beside him, Luffy _laughs._ He opens his arms. "Surume! Come!"

With two sharp barks, the golden-haired beast breaks into a run, tongue flinging slobber everywhere. Usopp screams bloody murder, so loud he probably breaks the sound barrier. He shields his face with his arms and _oh god but he's too young to die, this was such a bad idea, holy crap, why does this shit always happen to him—_

But the dog tackles Luffy instead, drawing a yelp out of him, and Usopp starts writing the obituary before his back even hits the dirt. _Luffy, locker 208, never made it past thirteen, died shrieking as he was mauled by a monster with six rows of teeth and glowing eyes—_

It takes him a long moment to realize the screaming is actually shrill laughter, caused by Surume trying to smother Luffy with affectionate licks and not because his face is being ripped off. The dog whines and yips excitably, like Usopp has seen them do when reunited with their owner. His wiry tail wags back and forth so violently he smacks himself with it.

"Okay, okay," Luffy says, pushing at the apparently friendly beast. "Missed you too, but that's enough! Where's Dadan?"

Surume backs off with a whine, then barks.

Luffy cocks his head. "Workshop?"

The dog barks again, twice.

"She hates it when I go in there!" he groans as if Surume is actually communicating with him, and Usopp's mouth gapes wider the longer it goes on. "Is she working on that one car again? I don't think she's ever going to get it running, but she threw a wrench at me the last time I tried to tell her that. It's _really_ not gonna work if she breaks all her tools, so maybe..."

Tuning out, Usopp stares ahead into the scrapyard. And that's when he sees her, calls her by name in his head before he's ever stepped within ten feet.

This is what it must feel like to meet god.

"Is that the sheep you meant?" he interrupts whatever stream of babble Luffy's in the middle of, pointing.

Luffy tracks the line of his finger and lights up, springing to his feet. "Yeah! We'll have to go check with the owners first to really see it. Well, only Dadan. Magra and Dogra don't count."

Surume leads the way, winding through junk piles and scrap parts until they come upon a large building with a garage door. It's closed, but Luffy simply bashes his fist against it _way_ longer than is socially acceptable.

Usopp starts to understand that that's just— _Luffy,_ in general. It must be commonplace enough for Surume to not even bark at the racket.

A garbled yell from inside finally shuts him up.

"You little asshole!" The door slowly starts to raise. "Stop scaring the shit out of me! Did you lose the fucking key _again?"_

Luffy pauses, then shakes his head. "No, just forgot!"

"Sounds about right."

The door fully raises to reveal a stout, grease-stained woman scowling at them. The expression only lasts as long as it takes for Luffy to sweeten it by traipsing over to tackle her in the fastest, shortest hug Usopp's ever witnessed.

He waves an arm at her like Usopp wouldn't have noticed her otherwise.

"This is Dadan! My mom!"

Usopp takes in the veritable cape of curly red hair on the woman, her skin freckled and pale wherever it's not flushed. He looks at Luffy with his noodle-like limbs, jet-black hair, and flawless tan skin.

He blinks hard and decides he's heard weirder. Walking forward, he holds his hand out for her to shake. "Usopp, nice to meet you."

"See that, Luffy?" she says, firmly clasping their hands and giving them a shake. "Those are called manners!"

"Neither of us has those, only Ace does." He wrinkles his nose. "Kind of."

"You're a little menace, kid." She ruffles his hair, making him squawk and slap at her hands. "What brings you here today? Garp giving you or Ace a hard time again? I can—"

"No! Fine! We're fine," Luffy cuts her off, shaking his head and glancing sideways at Usopp. "I made a friend!"

"A friend." Dadan blinks, eyes widening slightly in shock as they skim over Usopp again. Alarmingly, tears gather in them. "You're friends with my boy?"

Usopp stares back at her, feeling very deer-in-headlights. "W-well, I barely know him, but— yes?"

"See?" Luffy exclaims. "It's true!"

For lack of anything better to do as he's stared at, Usopp nods enthusiastically.

Before he can accidentally make things worse by opening his mouth, she shuffles around the bench and lifts him off his feet, arms squeezing so hard his spine cracks.

"Don't break him!" Luffy takes a swipe at her shoulder. "He wants to see the sheep, Dadan."

Usopp's knees almost buckle when she abruptly drops him, rasping a quiet, "Ow..."

She scoffs. "That hunk of junk? Why?"

"We're gonna tame it!" Luffy grins big and bumps a shoulder into his, aggressive like he doesn't quite know how to do it gently.

It punches an _oof_ out of Usopp, makes him lose his footing for the second time in the last minute.

Luffy only stares at him. "Right?"

"Kid," Dadan says, "I'm not sure what you're hoping for, but it barely runs. It's a monster. I don't know what the engineer was thinking when they made that thing."

Today has already been so goddamn weird that Usopp decides it can't hurt to indulge in the crazy. "Can we at least check it out?"

Dadan sighs heavily. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

* * *

Up close, Merry is a hulking, gross, dirty, _angel._

Under the grime collected through her stagnant scrapyard existence, the potential is limitless. He can see echoes of how bold and beautiful she once was, with strokes of black winding across dirt-darkened white. A busted up side mirror and crater along the metalwork above the back tire does nothing to diminish it.

He runs reverent fingers through dust, tracing a faded black swirl on the door.

_She was the fluffiest sheep on the planet! There was no shortage of people who tried to take her wool—_

Kaya would love her. Even run-down like this, but Merry— the one he brought to life with stories— _his_ Merry is a list of slowly growing boxes unchecked at this moment.

But they _could be,_ and Usopp's always been a dreamer. Already sees himself zipping down the road, burning tarmac and eating up miles. _Adventure._ Luffy's arm hanging out the window, laughter swept away by the wind.

His breath catches in his throat as he looks back over his shoulder toward Luffy, who's bouncing on the balls of his feet like a windup toy. A barely contained grin sets the corners of his mouth twitching, dark eyes lit up in uncertain glee.

Usopp's own excitement must be obvious, since Dadan throws her head back and cackles.

"Look," she says, "it's yours if you'll work here for as much as I want to pay you under the table. Help fix up some of this junk, entertain Surume... stuff like that, on weekends and the afternoon depending on homework. I'll teach you all sorts of shit if you're willing."

Usopp swears his heart stops. "What?"

So many odd jobs that he hates and she just— offers him up his something he'd _love_ on a silver platter. Like it's that easy. Just because he's _Luffy's friend,_ which he can only assume is heartbreakingly rare considering her reaction. A wave of sad anger flushes through him, emboldened by the way Luffy had simply brushed off being shoved into his locker. No big deal. Happens all the time.

He must be making an unpleasant face because Dadan sighs. "Look, if you don't want to—"

"NO!" Usopp shouts, then cringes at himself. "I mean, yes, sir, I would love to. Sir. Ma'am. My good lady."

To his relief, she laughs. "Come back Friday."

"Thank—"

That's as far as he gets before Luffy tackles him into the side of the van, shrill giggles mixing with Surume's barking at the loud bang of their combined weight hitting Merry. "Sheep tamer!"

"You little gremlin!" Dadan shouts. "Don't dent it up even more!"

Luffy laughs harder and rolls them both off the van, a squawking Usopp trapped in his hold. He lets go just enough to instead sling an arm over his shoulder.

Usopp finds he doesn't much mind the leech that's latched onto him. Luffy's clingy, sure, but friend-shaped. Maybe _best-_ friend-shaped.

He's never had that before.

He smiles back, bumps a hip against Luffy's bony side. When he bumps back, Luffy manages to knock him out of his hold and to the ground.

Usopp sighs, brushing dirt off his pant leg as he stands. "We're gonna have to work on that."

Dadan erupts in wheezing laughter and doesn't stop for at least a solid minute.

* * *

"Merry was as good as mine within three weeks. My legendary people skills won Dadan over." Usopp sniffs proudly, now swinging into a parking spot at the hotel. "She even helped turn her into the sheep you see today! Well, minus the rainbow. I'm still saving up for that."

"Don't worry! Dadan said eighteen years old sounds good. A big year for big gifts!" Luffy says, then claps a hand over his mouth. "Oops."

Usopp side-eyes him for so long that Zoro worries they'll get stuck like that. "Did you just... spoil my eighteenth birthday present?"

Luffy shakes his head. "Uh, _no!"_ he says, like a very bad liar.

It baffles Zoro that he can say the weirdest shit with a straight face, yet struggles to sell something so mundane. Crazy seems to come easier than anything in this circle. Zoro supposes he shouldn't count himself out there.

"She does know last year was, like," Usopp pauses, seeming to struggle to find the right words, "an un-toppable kind of thing, right?"

Zoro has no idea what they're talking about at this point, but Luffy only flicks Usopp's shoulder and throws the door open. "Maybe. Now she just gets to spoil you!"

Usopp stares at the empty passenger seat, blinking rapidly. "Oh, gross," he mumbles shakily, "I think I might cry."

"Oh, I'm—" Zoro fumbles for the door handle. "I'm allergic, so good luck with that. LUFFY, WAIT!"

"You're both terrible at this!" Usopp shouts after him.

"Thanks, I know!"

* * *

He's still wide awake that night when Luffy groans in frustration, rolls over, and locks his limbs around Zoro like he asked to be mauled by an octopus for the second night in a row.

"Uh." He clears his throat, and it's an odd sensation with Luffy's head buried in the side of his neck. "Do you not have enough room over there or something?"

Luffy sighs, making him shiver. "Just want to know Zoro's here."

Warmth scalds his cheeks, except the happy flutter in his chest is tainted by the dread he's been steeped in all day. _Aren't you mad?_ He means to ask, but doesn't. _Why aren't you screaming your fucking head off right now?_

Somehow, the other shoe _hasn't_ dropped on his head with all the weight of an anvil. Not yet. He's been waiting for it all afternoon. He knows it's coming, but not how much or when. Ever since Luffy said, " _Get in,"_ and sounded like he'd prefer to kick Zoro in the ribs.

The arms grow tighter, and the only thing Luffy says now is: "Zoro scared me today."

"But you—" He gulps, and the words only slot together in his head after they're out. "You shouldn't have said anything."

"Huh?" Luffy squirms, tries to push far enough away to see his face.

Zoro hides. He yanks him back in, circling his waist with both arms, and it turns out to be a stroke of genius when Luffy all but melts. "Usopp was pissed and _I_ fucked up. He was right, but then _you—"_

He shielded him and it was so much worse to hear Luffy get cut down when Zoro was the one who deserved it. _Still_ deserves it. But _nobody's doing it._ Usopp didn't say another word about it. Even Sanji only laughed and cracked some stupid joke and it made no goddamn sense and _why the fuck is Luffy laughing at him now?_

"I wanted to protect Zoro."

But— "You were mad at me too."

"No?" Luffy's forehead rolls against him as he shakes his head, sounding genuinely confused. "When did I say that?"

He tries to pinpoint it, but he doesn't sound any more certain than Luffy. "You didn't have to. You should've been on his side. Usopp—"

"Was being _mean,"_ Luffy interrupts sharply, "and he took it too far. You looked— _scared._ Like I was when you stepped over the line. The cars were _so_ _fast,_ and then Usopp yelled and I— I almost didn't make it." He shrugs, holding tighter, pressed hard enough that Zoro can feel him shaking at every point of contact.

He doesn't know what to do with that except add it to the list of ways he fucked up today. "Sorry, I wasn't... thinking about it."

Not really. Not _consciously._ He wasn't _actually_ going to do it.

"It's okay," Luffy mumbles, like it's that simple. "Can we stay like this?"

Maybe it _is_ that simple, with Luffy.

"Okay. Yeah."

He exhales slowly, relaxing into it. Sinking back into the memory of the last time someone held him this hard. So hard he couldn't tell if they'd been trying to break him more or hold him together. It hadn't been as pleasant back then, but maybe it was necessary. He'd needed more than he'd ever asked for from his only friend in the world.

He might need it from Luffy in the same way, right now, because—

_It was the last story I told my sister before she died._

Usopp's words swim through his head for the millionth time, dragging skeletons into the light not even _he_ wants to see. The crux of all this bullshit.

_My sister, Kaya. My sister, K—_

His brain scrambles the letters, replaces the vowels, hiccups over the thought of her as usual. Zoro sighs, fingers scrunching in Luffy's shirt as tightly as he dares, letting himself _feel it think it hate it_ for a moment because—

_My sister, Kuina._

In every way that really counts, Kuina is gone.


	10. Young Hearts Were Built to Be Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lessons learned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! A kind of early update! Aren’t you proud? 
> 
> Usopp took a crack at it last chapter. Now, will smol Roronoa Zoro please step up to bat? He’s tiny, but he’s got a mean swing. 
> 
> That’s my roundabout way of saying that this is a flashback chapter and it’s loaded with angst, so... mind the content warnings and tags? Alvida’s in the later half of it. That should say enough. Feel free to yell at me in the comments.

He’s nine years old and not an inch of him feels tethered to the thing he calls his body. 

His skin pulls too tight across his bones, head pulsing to the drum of his heartbeat, poised to implode. It’s nothing but a battered joke, at this point. 

The dojo shutters from sight under a slow, heavy blink. Zoro’s footsteps stutter in time with his lungs, hesitating. He doesn’t even know why he’s here. 

By the time he half-decides he should turn around, still inching forward, a shock of blue appears in the open sliding door. 

He sighs, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

Too fucking late. 

"Oh my god, Zoro!" Kuina gasps from just inside the dojo as he limps into view.

Her hands fly up to cover her mouth, but they quickly drop as she rushes outside and takes in the damage. The black eye and split lip Zoro's sporting. The bruises sheathing his arms like morbid, polka dot sleeves. Zoro tries to glorify them as battle wounds. He put up one hell of a fight today, but it’s hard to pretend when he didn’t win and lost a part of himself in the process.

This isn't rare — Kuina has seen it all before — but it _is_ the worst it's ever been all at once. A great big combo deal of Alvida's greatest, literal, hits. He doesn’t even remember what ticked her off this time. And, yeah, Zoro will admit it’s pretty damn bad, but not bad enough to warrant tears. From either of them. So then why does Kuina look ready to cry?

At first, Zoro doesn't understand the urgency behind her touch when, out of all the places that she could be paying attention to, Kuina prods her shaking fingers at the marks on his neck. But then he remembers, very reluctantly but vividly, how the marks got there, which makes him remember what followed and he kind of wants to die a little. Or a lot.

_Don’t ask. Don’t ask._

She asks. (Of course she does.) "What are those? Where did you get these?" comes on a whisper. 

It feels like screaming.

Breathing takes more effort than usual, but Zoro manages. He doesn’t— he’s not even fully sure what happened. But he doesn't think he can do this right now, not without breaking down like— 

**_Slut!_ ** _Alvida shouts in his mind as he speed-hobbles out of the house, her grasp, from under her body’s weight—_

His ankle twinges, here and now in front of Kuina and _not_ Alvida. It takes him a second to figure out why, and he feels the absurd urge to laugh.

He’s shaking again, the tremors rolling head-to-toe. 

But it’s— good. Grounding. Physical pain to counteract the melting pot of memories bleeding pain and disgust and hot sticky _hurt_ all over. 

How can Kuina even tell he didn't just get this from some girl at school? It must be something about the way he flinches away from her touch, as though scalded, his heart racing under her gentle fingers. 

"Is that an actual question?" he rasps, voice almost numb enough to alarm him but it’s numb and he’s numb and everything is numb except for that place in his head that’s still screaming and bleeding poison. "Bruises, Kuina, from Alvida, like they always are. Can we go sit down now? I rolled my ankle." 

"No." She shakes her head, uncooperative and unconvinced, eyes going watery. "No, we’re staying right here until you tell me. Those look different."

Zoro can't look her in the eye. He stares far behind her without seeing anything, dulled by his own need to shut off all senses. It was a mistake to come here. He doesn’t want her to see him like this. Zoro doesn’t want _Kuina_ to see him like this! He doesn’t want to _be_ like this! He—

 _Numb._ He holds to it like a shield.

"It's a type of bruise," Zoro mutters, hand coming up to cover the bite-bruises standing out in painful purple. His mind bleeds more poison as he chokes out, "So really, I'm still right." 

Kuina gives him a look, still composed even in the face of that revelation. Fear lights her eyes once he finds the courage to focus, look back into them.

"Is that all?" she presses. "Please, Zoro. Is that the only thing she did?"

Zoro doesn't see how lying will help, doesn't see how anything will help, at this point.

"No."

That one word breaks something forever. Breaks something in Kuina and she lets out a sob, her hand back over her mouth to muffle the rest but the one is all it takes. Like some kind of hellish dominoes, something in Zoro breaks, too. His numbness shatters and he does his best not to shatter with it.

They lunge for each other at the same time and Zoro flinches as Kuina’s arms wrap around him so she holds even tighter. It’s as horrible as it is amazing because Kuina is female, like Alvida, but she’s also _Kuina._ She scrapes across bleeding mental wounds even as she soothes the bruised and battered parts.

She sniffles into his shoulder, voice muted against it. “Wait here while I tell Sensei—” 

“You can’t!” The cry rips out of him as violently as he pulls away from her, arms wrapped around himself to replace the lost comfort. Because sensei won’t _understand,_ Alvida will _hate_ him, he’ll get shuttled off somewhere a thousand times scarier when he doesn’t know what to expect, right after the new status quo has been set, and— somewhere _without his lifeline._ “You can’t tell him, Kuina, you can’t!”

“He’s going to know!” she shouts back and gestures at him pointedly. “You look like you got hit by a car, Zoro, he’s going to want you to go the hospital and—”

“No!” His mind races, chanting that single word. A loop that hasn’t stopped since the moment he was thrown to the ground and— “No, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” Kuina shakes her head, frantic. “No it is _not.”_

“I’ll never forgive you if you tell him,” he bites out, terrified shame fueling his words. From her stricken expression, it sparks some terror in her too. 

“What do I do, Zoro?” She sobs. “I don’t know what to do.”

The excuse flies out of his mouth with the same ease of _‘I fell down the stairs, I’m clumsy, it was the cat, the door, the floor rebelling against me, I swear, Mrs. Won’t Care in a Week.’_

“Just say A-Alvida grounded me, so I won’t be coming to lessons for a few weeks.”

He doesn’t know where the fuck he’s going to go in the meantime, but it can’t be here and it definitely can’t be that house. Not yet. If Alvida touches him again today, he’s going to have to— shred his _skin_ off or fill the bathtub with bleach and ignore the burn. It probably hurts less than hearing _‘I love you’_ out of her mouth for the first time and realizing just how she means it. 

Kuina stares, looking as helpless and hopeless as he feels. Though her frown speaks more to her actual thoughts on his decision, she nods. “If that’s what you want, fine.” 

Zoro grits his teeth, wipes the tears coating his cheeks, and nods back. The one thing he’s learned today, above all else, is that it doesn’t matter what he wants. 

It never did. 

* * *

  
The first time Zoro _truly_ understands he can never tell anyone, he’s ten years old— almost eleven. Just entering middle school. 

When comparing playground battle scars, he tentatively mentions to a friend that the scratches on his arms were from the lady at home. 

His friend laughs. 

“Dude. A _girl_ gave you those?” The laughter continues, and a few more kids who’d overheard wander over and join in. “I didn’t think you were that weak, Roronoa.”

One of the girls guffaws, the sound sharp and shrill, though her words cut even deeper. “Uh-huh. My dad says real men are super strong and never get hurt. Especially not in such a dumb way.” 

Heat rushes to Zoro’s cheeks, and he doesn’t know if it’s anger or embarrassment that causes it. It’s all muddled up inside of him. He wants to defend himself, he really does, but— 

Are they right? Does this make him weak? 

And what about when... when Alvida does those _other_ things? 

Those things hurt, too, but in a different way. And sometimes it doesn’t hurt at all, his body going numb as he seems to watch everything happen from a foggy window in the back of his mind. Sometimes it’s just tears blurring his vision because it’s not terrible beyond the feeling of _wrong wrong wrong._ Maybe that makes him even _worse_ than weak. He doesn’t know if there’s a word for that. 

He wants to ask. There are so many questions bottled up, on the tip of his tongue. They usually stay there because he won’t ask Kuina, and Alvida lashes out the second he questions anything she does. He’s established a few guidelines by now. 

_Don’t ask what’s in the bottle or she’ll laugh and pour liquid fire on your cuts. If there aren’t any, she’ll make some._

_Don’t ask why she stopped smiling at you and ruffling your hair; why she started downing liquor like it’s the only thing keeping her alive. She’ll start sobbing about a cruel man you barely remember and punch you with that shiny ring she always stares at. She’ll scream that it’s your fault, what the_ fuck, _stop crying._

 _Definitely don’t ask why her hands and lips are everywhere you don’t want them to be, why she forces yours to wander too. She’ll say she loves you._

Zoro blinks away the memories and swallows the questions. They’ll probably just laugh even more.

He lies.

“I fell out of a tree, and she helped me up. That’s all. That’s what I meant!” 

A lump forms in his throat. Angry tears. God, no, not now. He struggles not to blow up ( _“Don’t yell, Zoro, I’m helping you become a man. Isn’t that generous? Don’t assume people have bad intentions!”_ ) as the laughter persists. 

A chorus of insults and ten-year-old wisdom breaks out. 

“What an idiot!” 

“I never have anyone help _me_ anymore.”

“Just look at him. Must be a crybaby!”

“Only girls cry over shit like that.” 

Zoro doesn’t know how it happens.

One moment he’s choking back tears, and the next his so-called friend is underneath him with a newly broken nose, gushing red, and a (soon-to-be) black eye. His hands shake as he pulls his raised fist away, pushing himself off the ground even though it kind of aches. His _heart_ kind of aches, staring down at the boy whose eyes are as wide with fear as Zoro’s. _Oh, fuck no._

He doesn’t want to be like _her._

“Psycho crybaby!”

“Get away from him, you freak!”

Harsh hands pull at his shoulders, and Zoro’s already frayed nerves unravel even further. “Shut the fuck up!” he yells, whirling around. A vicious shove sends the kid who grabbed him sprawling to the ground. “Don’t fucking touch me!” 

“Hey!” 

“What’s _wrong_ with you?” 

He bites his lip, unable to answer. Alvida would have plenty. Zoro flinches at the thought.

He doesn’t _want_ to be like her, but he’s afraid he already is.

Zoro storms away from the group’s angry shouts, acknowledging there’s some truth to the crybaby comment as another tear slides down his cheek. He roughly wipes it away. 

It’s the genesis of Roronoa Zoro, Asshole Loner. 

Alvida drills the message in even further when she’s forced to pick him up from school for being suspended. She’s four hours late, leaving Zoro glued to a chair in the office waiting room, pretending to do homework. School has been over for two of them. The clerk and secretary glare at her, but she lays the charm on _thick_ the moment she steps inside. 

Her hand claws into his shoulder as she pushes him to stand, and he suppresses a flinch as the textbook slips from his lap, slamming into green tile. Alvida’s eyes flash angrily at the sound, as if his goal was to annoy her. He scrambles to pick it up, hugging it to his chest just for something to hide behind. She presents him forward like a shameful example, mouth pinched in an embarrassed frown. 

“I’m so sorry! Gosh, sorry, I know I’m awfully late. I work dusk ‘til dawn most days, and it’s hard to be a single mother, you know? We get by, but not working isn’t an option.” 

Her eyes cut toward him again. The threat to keep his mouth shut, veiled behind her busied facade, is clear. It makes him want to tear out of her grasp and _run._

He gulps, blurting the beginnings of a panicked excuse, “But they were—” 

Her grip on his shoulder tightens dangerously. “He’s usually independent enough to understand our situation and _behave_ himself.” She sighs, so very put-upon and troubled. “Well, they say all kids act out for attention, right? I really should get going. Maybe my boss won’t fire me for leaving early if I just explain...”

By the time she’s done, the staff are glaring at _Zoro._

“Boys will be boys,” the secretary says, shaking her head. “See it all the time, ma’am. Make sure you keep him on the straight and narrow from now on.”

Alvida nods sadly before tugging him through the door. “Believe me, I’ll try my very best.”

In the car, she does just that.

The cork bursts and she lands a few slaps to the side of the head that make his ears ring. At home, she gives him a black eye to match the other kid, cussing up a storm.

The school will assume the other boy got a swing in too, if it doesn’t heal before he goes back. Self-defense, of course. Zoro wonders why _he_ can’t use that excuse. How was he supposed to defend himself from the taunting, the laughter, if this is apparently the wrong way? It’s how Alvida always shuts him up when he’s “being a brat”. Says he needs a firm hand to keep him in line.

The image of his friend’s terrified face flashes in his mind, scared of _Zoro,_ what he’d done. The adults in the office, horrified, agreeing with Alvida and nodding along in sympathy for the terrible burden that Zoro is, and— 

Well, he’s beginning to think she’s right.

“I always knew you were a little fucking monster,” she claims. “I knew it! Always causing trouble and giving me attitude at home. You won’t have any friends if you treat them all like that. I thought you’d at least be considerate enough to not pull this crap at school, too.” 

“But they were—”

“No, no. I get it. No need for excuses.” She cuts him off again with a huff of disdainful amusement. “You can’t help who you are.”

 _Oh,_ he thinks, because it’s then that he truly understands.

Zoro is meant to hurt and _be_ hurt, and that’s the end of it. That’s who he is. Violence is necessary to deal with him because _he_ is violent. He must deserve everything else she does, too. There’s no point in speaking out, even to defend himself. 

_Alright, then. Lesson learned._


End file.
